


Time Will Tell

by Firenza



Series: The Glitch Inside [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 1930s, Arguments, Blindness, Burning buildings, Cussing, Death, Discovery, Dubious Medical Procedures, Escape, Exhaustion, Experimentaion, Exposition, Fire, Gaslighting, Grief, Human Experimentation, Imprisonment, Insomnia, Invasion of Privacy, Journal, Memories, Non-Graphic Violence, Possession, Secrets, Sign Language, Teleportation, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator(s), Zombie, lying, selflessness, slight body horror, unethical drug testing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-07-29 12:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16264145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firenza/pseuds/Firenza
Summary: Learning the secrets kept within is never an easy battle. Only time can tell what will be learned, and what will be forgotten.(Sequel toThe Glitch Inside)





	1. Chapter 1

Moonlight spilled through the half-covered windows as Robin stretched his arms over his head. He’d recently started a new animation project, but on top of editing for Sean, it was hard to find time to work on it. Not that he minded. He loved editing, and working alongside Sean to create many of the cool ideas he had flying around his head was incredible. Unfortunately, it ate up a lot of his time, which was annoying. He knew if he asked for a few days off, he would get it, but he would feel guilty for even asking. Sean put so much effort on camera and behind the scenes to make everything run smoothly, and Robin felt that if he even took a day off it would mess everything up.

Next to his monitor, his phone lights up, showing a recently received text message. He scoops it up and opens the text.

_Wiishuuuuuu: what’s ur address again?_

_the same as the last three times you asked. whats going on_

_Wiishuuuuuu: i’ll explain soon_

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. He tucks his phone in his pocket and stands. As he makes his way across the apartment, the bells rings twice more. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” He mutters, even though he knows whoever’s outside can’t hear him. Peering through the peephole, he sees Signe standing outside the door. He steps back and blinks, believing lack of sleep must be getting to him, but when he takes another look, there she is. He opens the door and she barrels into the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Signe leans against the door, eyes wide and breathing heavily, a dark blue backpack clutched to her chest. She smiles wearily at him, “Hey, Robin…”

“Signe?” He blinks again. “Am I dreaming?”

She frowns, “Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, still shocked that she’d shown up at his house at midnight.

“It’s a bit of a long story. Just let’s go sit or something,” She stalks past him into the living room. Gone was the spunky, slightly angry woman he knew; now she seemed lost, almost scared. He wondered what could have caused this change. Did something happen between her and Sean? Family problems? But why come to _him_? Sure they were good friends, but she lived in England while he was in Sweden. What made her come all the way up here? Whatever the reason, it didn’t seem to be good.

Signe falls down onto the couch, looking like she hadn’t slept in days. Robin awkwardly follows her, “Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? You look exhausted.”

She responds with a weak nod, “I am. Tea would be nice.”

“On it.”

Ten minutes later, they sat on the couch, mugs up steaming green tea in their hands. Signe takes a sip and instantly relaxes her shoulders. “I guess you probably want an explanation?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem like a good thing when someone who lives in the UK shows up to your house in Sweden in the middle of the night.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke, but she cracks a small smile anyway. “What’s going on, Signe?”

Her smile fades and she looks into her cup of tea. Then, she sets it down on the coffee table and pulls a small, leather bound journal from the backpack. German words are scrawled across the dark green cover in what looks like Sharpie: _Tagebuch/Labor Notizen._ She hands the journal to him. “A few days ago, I was in Henrik’s office looking through his cabinets for some aspirin, when I opened the wrong cupboard and this fell out. I didn’t mean to read it, but… Maybe it might just be best if you read it yourself.”

Robin opens the journal to the first page. The first entry depicts Henrik’s first day in Athlone after his creation. He had an uncomfortable connection to Jack and seemed to be conducting some sort of experiment. The second entry, dated October 8, 2016, was much more interesting.

_It’s been almost a month since I appeared here (here seeming to be Athlone, Ireland) and nothing has gotten any less strange. For example: today a man appeared in the living room out of nowhere. He has no memories of who he is, and our only clues is a pocket watch that says: Happy Birthday, Antonio, and the clothes he was wearing. We took the incredible guess that his name is Antonio. Judging by his clothing, he seems to be something right out of a silent movie._

_He also seems to be another ego, as I’ve learned we’re called. Which would seem likely except for the fact that Sean hasn’t done anything to create anyone. That only adds to the mystery._

_Jackie took the pocket watch to study it, saying that there was something strange about it. Not much of a surprise that he wanted to study it. He reminds me of Peter Parker or Tony Stark. Has the will to do what’s right, but not superhuman abilities like Thor or the Hulk. They create what they need to fight their foes. It’s admirable really._

_Currently, Antonio’s in my lab. I’m not sure if Sean even knows that he’s here. I want to perform a full check up on him tomorrow morning to see if he would be suitable for testing. AN7-1 could help restore his memories._

_I must keep working. I’m close to the solution, I can feel it._

“What the hell…” He mutters and reads the next few entries.

 _October 9, 2016_ _First Check-Up for Patient #207_

_Antonio seems to be in good health, nothing out of the ordinary except for the extreme memory loss. I’ve dubbed him Patient #207 since he’s the two-hundred-and-seventh person I’ve tested with AN7-1._

Robin’s head snaps up to meet Signe’s eyes. “Two hundred and seven people?” He cried incredulously. Signe mutters something under her breath too quiet to hear, but he doesn’t ask her to repeat whatever it was. He shakes his head and returns his attention to the journal.

_I can only hope his tests go better than the others._

_I told Jack of my plans to give him my experimental cure. His only advice was to keep him away from Sean. He thinks that if he knew he would try to put a stop to my tests. I’m not about to let that happen. Not after I’d spent so long working._

_I’ll administer the latest version of AN7-1 to him tomorrow. We both need rest._

_October 10, 2016_ _Hourly Log for Patent #207_

_Day 1_

_11:00 AM:_ _Administered AN7-1 to #207. No instant reactions. Cannot tell if this is positive or_ _negative._

 _12:00 PM:_ _Still no reactions. He is holding out longer than most of the others. I think that if he_ _hadn’t known that I was giving it to him, he wouldn’t have figured it out._

 _1:00 PM:_ _Nothing. I wonder if it’s even doing anything?_

 _2:00 PM:_ _Still nothing._

 _7:00 PM:_ _I brought him some leftovers from dinner after we ate. I haven’t checked on_ _him since around 2 o’clock, but he seems to be doing alright. Maybe this version_ _of AN7-1 is dormant?_

 _9:00 PM:_ _Something has happened. When I went in to check on him, 207 started giggling_ _out of nowhere. His arms were shaking- no, twitching. It almost seemed_ _inhuman. I’m going to stay with him to make sure it doesn’t grow worse._

 _9:46 PM:_ _The twitching has stopped. He doesn’t know what caused it, and neither_ _do I. It’s likely that it was caused by the drug, or maybe whatever brought him here in the first place. I’ve administered a sedative to help him sleep. Tomorrow I’ll try inflicting small wounds to see how fast they’ll heal, then I’ll move on to larger ones._

Robin shut the journal, trying to comprehend what he was reading. What was this drug Henrik was testing? And who the hell was Antonio? Anti _before_ he was Anti? He’d always thought that Sean kept him well updated about anything that was happening with the egos. Apparently not. “You didn’t know about this?”

Signe shakes her head, “No I- I never knew about Antonio. Those two aren’t even the worst ones.” She shivers, thinking about the other entries.

He crinkles his forehead, “I can’t believe Sean-”

“It’s not Sean’s fault,” She cuts in loudly, voice cracking. “He has had _nothing_ to do with any of this. At least not anymore.” Taking the journal back, she flips forward a few pages before finding the entry she’s looking for.

_October 29, 2016_

_Sean has found out about my experiments and 207. He barged into my office this morning while I was in the middle of testing. Jack tried to take the bullet for me and told Sean he authorized the tests, but he didn’t believe the lie._

_They’re still outside, yelling at each other. I’ve put 207 back into his cell so he doesn’t try anything. He grows stronger and smarter by the day. When I’m done with him, he will be the perfect villain for Jack. The perfect opposite. The Anti-Jack if you will. He’s been a good puppet, he hasn’t fought back since the first time we attempted control._

_The arguing just stopped. I cannot tell if it’s a good or bad thing. Jack just barged through the door asking where I keep my sedatives. I pointed him to the cabinet and he took off with one of the pre-filled syringes. I do not know what he plans to do with it._

_\---_

_I don’t know how to feel about what’s happened. Thank God Signe was out today. The others had to be controlled after they found out. I think Jack even wiped their memories. It’s all just a mess that wasn’t planned for. It’s fixed now. Nothing to worry about. Sean is safely trapped in the mindscape, far away from where he can touch anything. He can’t get in our way any longer. Jack had to put him to sleep to trap him, hence the sedative._

_207 is trying to free himself again. I should go stop him._

Robin sets the journal down on the coffee table. “What… what the hell?” He mutters.

“I know…” Singe whispers. “He told us that Jack was the one who left, but…” Her voice shakes as she trails off. “Two days before the first attack... Suddenly, I don’t think Anti’s as bad as we thought he was. If he was a puppet himself once, maybe that’s why he’s always trying to be in control.”

“Maybe...” Robin swallows hard, trying to process everything. Sean wasn’t Sean, Anti actually had a valid reason for his actions, and he had never even stopped to consider that being told that Jack had decided to just up and leave one day was a lie. What other lies had he been believing?

Only time could tell what would happen. He only hoped it would be kind.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for being patient as I started work on this. I have a large collection of more journal entries that I wrote to see which ones I would had in here, and I wanted to know if you guys were interested in seeing them. Just let me know in the comments. If I do post them, it would be a supplementary piece and I’d probably upload an entry with each chapter for this.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thought Marvin had as he landed in a pile of snow was that, if given the choice, he would never do whatever he just did ever again. The trip had been less than a few seconds, and yet he felt as if all of his organs had been ripped through every pore in his body. Every square inch of him ached as if he’d exhausted his magic twenty times over. A groan escapes his lips as he cracks open dry eyes, trying to find something to grab onto to haul himself up. A hand grips his arm, heaves him out of the snow drift, and discards him on what feels like a gravel path. 

His glasses must have fallen off when he’d landed, leaving him in a suffocating darkness. He pushes himself to a cross-legged position and rubs his pounding head. Someone taps his left shoulder.

“Ḩere͞.” Glasses are pressed into the palm of his hand. Muttering a soft thanks, he slips them on and takes in the surroundings. A small park covered in a thick layer of snow surrounds them, moonlight glimmering off of the white ground. Bare trees dot around the park at random intervals. It’s a peaceful sight, and Marvin almost relaxes before remembering exactly what brought them here.

Jameson sits on the path a few feet away, clearly just as shaken as Marvin. He fiddles with the brim of his hat as he too assesses their landing spot. 

“Yo̶u two mi̛g͢ht̴ w̷a͡nt these.” Anti appears with a bundle of coats in his arms. He pulls one off the top of the pile and tosses it at Marvin who catches it with ease. He looks at the coat and slips it on, just now realizing just how cold it it was. He’d been so focused on the discomfort of traveling through time that his brain had hardly registered the chill.

“Hang on a second,” Marvin glares up at Anti, “Where did you get these?”

He shrugs, “Do̧es iţ ŕeaļl̨y̴ ma͠t̸te͏r?” He tosses the other coat to Jameson who graciously accepts it. 

“It does if you stole them,” Marvin stands and squares his shoulders. It was just dawning on him how stupid this plan could be. There was no way to tell if Anti was on their side or not. Sure, he learned that Jack and Henrik weren’t as trustworthy as he had thought they were, but that didn’t mean that Anti would band with them. He and Jameson could be fighting two enemies at once now. Hell, could he even trust Jameson?

Anti rolls his eyes as he throws a scarf around his neck to hide the bleeding gash, “L̵ǫok,͜ I won'̶t l͏i̷e ͘to ̴y͞ou. ͜I͡ sto͡l͢e̴ the̴m. ̴B͞ut̕ i͢t was ̕f̛rom ̵a̢ pomp͞us̵ store̶ t̶h͘at probabļy͟ ͟w͝on'͝t n̡ơtice the͠ ̕d̡i͡ffer̢e͡n̨ce. S͝o̷ really, it d̕oȩsn̶'̷t màtter̨.” 

Marvin crosses his arms, drawing the coat closer to him for warmth. “Fine,” He spits and turns on his heel to face Jameson who is looking around with an unrecognisable emotion on his face.    


“I ̡uńder̕s̷tan͢d̛ if ͏yo̧u don't͠ t͜rưst ̀me̶, ͝Mar̴v̷in,” Anti says, “I͏f I̶ ̷was͡ ̸in̷ your͏ sho̧es͡, I ͏wo̴u҉ldn͘'̛t ͠eit͢h̨er̷. Un̕fortųna̸tly,̴ ͞wère҉ in͠ th͠i̷s̢ t̸og̛e̴th͞er w͟hethe҉r w̶e lik͡e it or n͘ot.̛ ̕So ̸w̷e át least h̶av̢e to ̧w̕ork̀ t̸og̛e̴th͞er.”

“And why should I trust you?” He whips back around and jabs a finger into his chest,  “You possessed my for most of my  _ life,  _ terrorised my friends for  _ years, _ and then ask me to trust you?” He scoffs, “You have some real nerve.”

“I'm not̛ ҉ask̶ing fo̸r ͏you̷ to trust͞ me. ͟I ͢ju̴st҉ wa͜nt ̛you nǫt͝ to ̧snap ͟at̕ ̴me͢ ̷ever̢y t̀i͜me͠ I ma̵k̵e a ̶d̵ecis͠io͡n. ̷Is ҉th̷at̕ t̶o̴o mùc͠h̶ ̛t͡o as̀k?” Anti sighs, exasperated. 

“Only if those decisions don’t threaten our lives,” Marvin narrows his eyes.

Anti throws his hands up and opens his mouth to say something, but Jameson cuts in before he can.  _ “Will you two stop fighting?”  _ He steps between them,  _ “I don’t know if this was intentional, but I believe you brought us to a rather good time.” _

“When are we?” Marvin asks.

“Janu͞ary ̡4͡,͏ 1͜93̵4” Anti answers.

_ “About two months after I left, so-to-speak,”  _ A sad smile passes over Jameson’s face, _ “I know where we can go since we probably need somewhere to stay.” _

“L͡e̵t's ̢g͞et going ͜then,” Anti gestures for Jameson to lead the way. 

They follow Jameson out of the park and onto an empty street. Small, cottage-like houses in various states of decay line the cracked road. Some seemed like they were built yesterday, while others looked to be from the second century. Flickering street lamps light the way down the cracked sidewalk. They pass one of the newer looking houses and Jameson pauses for a minute, looking at the home with a mix of sadness and anger. Marvin figures it best not to ask.

A few turns later, and they find themselves surrounded by a bustling festival. Bright, colorful lights line the buildings turning the mass of people into a rainbow of movement. Couples dance to upbeat jazz from a band playing on a raised stage in the middle of the square. Jameson’s eyes flicker back and forth over the crowd, but he keeps walking, intent on getting to where ever it is that he’s leading them. 

Finally, Jameson approaches a man leaning against the side of a taxi at the end of the street. The man’s eyes light up when he sees them and his flicks his cigarette to the side. “Jameson Jackson! It’s good to see you again!” He pulls Jameson into a tight hug, “Where you’ve been? Everyone’s been worried about you since…” He trails off, his smile fading.

Jameson frowns as well. He holds up his hands and signs,  **“I needed some time away after all that. Staying here wasn’t good for me. Even being back is… painful.”**

The man seems surprised at the form of communication, “Sign? You okay, Jame?” 

He shakes his head,  **“I found that I cannot speak as well as I used to. Using my hands is much easier.”**

“I’m afraid I don’t understand sign, Jameson,” He frowns.

“I can translate if you’d like,” Marvin offers before he can restrain himself from doing so. Silently, he curses himself. He hadn’t attempted to sign or even understand it in years. The last time he’d even tried translating he wasn’t even in control of his own body. 

The man’s smile returns, “That would be nice. I’m Bernie by the way,” He extends his hand for Marvin to shake.

He accepts the hand, “Marvin.”

Bernie looks behind him to Anti, “Who’s your friend back there?” He looks rather suspicious of the glitch, not that Marvin blames him. Even with normal clothes on and not twitching like a lunatic, there was still something off-putting about him.

Anti hesitates, trying to come up with a name on the spot, “An͘to͞n͞io.” He shakes Bernie’s hand as well. Jameson tenses up at the mention of the name, but relaxes as soon as Bernie turns back to him.

“Same name as your brother, eh? Speaking of which, have you seen him lately? We-” 

Jameson raises a hand to cut him off,  **“No, I haven’t and frankly if I never see him again it will be too soon.”**

Bernie raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t question it. He clears his throat, diffusing the awkward tension hanging in the air, “I’m guessing you folks are needin’ a ride?”

“ **That would be nice.** ”

“Hop on in then,” Bernie gestures to the cab beside them. They climb in, Jameson taking the far right seat, Marvin in the middle, and Anti on his left. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but they manage to fit. Bernie looks back at Jameson, “The house, I’m assuming.”

Jameson nods, “ **Yes please.** ” 

Then they’re off, and weaving through the thick crowd of festival-goers. Bernie stays silent for the most part, only humming along to the radio occasionally. Marvin uses this opportunity to ask Jameson a question. “Where are you taking us?” He hisses into his ear. 

“ _ A place I used to live. Don’t worry, I’m not leading you guys into any danger... Not on purpose at least.”  _ He answers. Marvin is only slightly surprised at the voice in his head. It was obvious enough that Jameson wouldn’t want to use the telepathy with anyone who didn’t know about it. He grunts in response. 

The rest of the drive is silent. The lights and sounds of the party behind them have faded leaving only the hum of the car and the streetlamps outside. Building of all shapes and sizes fly by as they drive through the mostly empty streets. At one point, the rocky shores of the beach lining the Atlantic are visible. Somehow, it’s a bit of a shock that they’re still in Brighton. If they could move through time with a pocket watch, whose to say that they couldn’t travel with it too.

Finally, they pull up to a five story, warehouse-looking building. Most of the windows are covered with blackout curtains, some even boarded up. No sign advertises what company the warehouse belongs to. Bernie parks the taxi right in front of the building. “Here’s your stop, boys. Don’t worry about tipping. It’s on the house tonight.”

Jameson smiles at him as they get out of the car, “ **Thank you so much, Bernie.** ”

“Any time. I’m just glad to know that you’re okay. I know the others will be too. Oh, wait a second,” Bernie dives into the glove compartment and pulls out a key, “You might want this.” Jameson takes the key. With that, Bernie shuts the door and speeds away.

Marvin pulls his jacket closer to himself. It was colder here than back in the park, or maybe he was just warm from the car. They run up the crumbling steps and Jameson quickly inserts the key into the door. The door swings open to reveal another door. A series of knocks sounds from the opposite side, “-. .- -- .” Morse code, he realizes. 

“.--- .- -- . ... --- -.     .--- .- -.-. -.- ... --- -.” Jameson answers. The door instantly flies open and the person on the other side barrels into Jameson, pulling him into a tight hug. He pulls back, the widest smile on his face.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to finally show up,” A red-headed girl stands in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She glances at Marvin and Anti nervously. “These your friends, Jam?” Her voice is twinged with an Irish accent. It was strange to realise just how long it had been since the last time he’d heard someone else with an Irish accent. Someone other than the egos and Jack that was. 

“Of course they’re his friends, Red. Why else would they be with him?” The man who had barreled into Jameson smiles brightly at them, “Names Ben, this here is Red. If you can’t tell, we’re twins,” That much was obvious. They had the same firey hair and pale, freckled faces. “Now get inside. It’s freezing out here,” Ben gestures them inside. 

The lobby is sparsely furnished with only a few pieces of wildly differing furniture spread around the room. A bright red couch sits underneath a set of covered windows. Next to it, is a wooden table stained with the rings of too many cups of coffee. Ben steps in front of them and Marvin suddenly realizes how many weapons he has hanging off of him. A pistol and revolver sit on each of his hips, and if that weren’t enough, a shotgun is strapped over his back. How he didn’t notice that at first is beyond him. An uneasy feeling runs down his spine as he sees that Red has just as much on her. No use in being subtle apparently. 

Anti seems to be right at home, looking nonchalant as always. There was no way to tell how the glitch actually felt, but Marvin hoped he was as nervous as he was. Jameson must sense his nerves because he gently brushes his hand against Marvin’s, “ _ It’s okay. They’re not going to hurt you. Don’t sign to me, the people here know it. Just trust me, okay. I’ll explain everything soon.” _

Marvin swallows and tries to suppress his fear. He had no choice but to trust Jameson. He could only hope that he wouldn’t regret it.


	3. Chapter 3

The bright halls of the mindscape stung Sean’s tired eyes. After so long in the dark, metaphorically and physically, his eyes weren’t adjusted to anything about this. Neither was the rest of him. Jack pulled him along like a dog on an invisible leash. There was no use in running since his legs still were numb from after so long chained to the ground. Even if he made it somewhat far there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. Jack could literally bend the mindscape to his will, changing the halls however he pleased with just a thought. Once upon a time, Sean could as well, but the days of him having any sort of power over his doppelganger were over.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking, it seemed like a while, but his sense of time was screwy. His legs burned from the exertion. Even just walking was too much for him anymore. It was embarrassing. Sean struggled to keep up as Jack was setting a brisk pace. Where he was leading him, he wasn’t sure. The twisting halls of the mindscapes were confusing, and it was hard to believe there was a point in time he knew how to navigate them. 

Finally, they stop in front of a door. Sean feels his heart in his throat as Jack opens the door to reveal a mass of metaphorical machinery. The mindscape held many rooms based off the basic functions of the brain and showed them in a way that would be understood to the human eye. He hesitantly follows Jack inside. Nine large screens hang on the back wall, nothing on them but static. A clear, glowing button sits on the table in front of the screens. 

Jack comes to a stop in front of the button and sets his hand next to it, “I suppose you know what this does.” 

His mouth goes dry as he remembers its purpose. He couldn’t say how he knew, just like he had no idea how he once could navigate the twisting halls of the mindscape, but just by looking at it he knew exactly what it did.  “Yes…” Sean whispers. He stands on the other side of the table. Careful not to touch it, he brushes a finger along the edge of it’s base. 

“Touch it,” Jack orders.

Sean almost chokes on his own spit, “E-excuse me?” He sputters.

Jack raises an eyebrow, all business, “Did I fucking stutter? Remember what our agreement was,” A warning. If Sean didn’t do as he was told then the others would suffer because of it. He was turning into Jack’s puppet at this point. Then again, wasn’t he already?

“I remember,” He slowly reaches his hand over the button and it glows with an iridescent light. Heat radiates off of it, warming his palm. 

Jack walks around the table to stand behind him. Both of his hands rest on his shoulders. “Now, touch it. Touch the button,” Jack says, a growing more aggressive, “Or you know what I will do.”

He hesitates, knowing what would happen to him if he did press it. Did he really want that burden? Did he really have a choice? The answer to both of those was no. He really  _ didn’t  _ want the consequences that came with it, but he also didn’t exactly get to choose his actions here. It was for them just like everything else. So they could live and be free someday. It was for them.

He slams his hand down onto the button.

A rush of energy flies up his arm straight into his brain. He grows lightheaded and stumbles backwards. Color flashes before his eyes like a movie on high speed; conversations overlap each other, all trying to be the loudest one in his head. The images slow down showing scenes from the past and present, memories. But they aren’t his. 

He’s nervously standing backstage, waiting for his cue to enter. Green stars sparkle in the audience as fans excitedly wait to see him. Finally, the cue comes and he walks on stage to a thunderous cheer. 

The scene changes and he’s sitting on a couch with a small child, a baby, in his arms. A woman rests her head on his shoulder and hums contently as their son stands in front of him begging to hold his little sister. 

It changes again and he’s in a hospital, rushing through the halls towards an operating room. He bursts into the room just as they wheel the patient in through another door. 

His head spins and he’s soaring through the air. Again and he’s laughing on a set with his castmates. Again and he’s casting a spell to the amazement of another theater. 

Slowly, the images fade away, returning his normal vision. No sooner does it return, than another wave of agony rolls though his head. His eyes shut tight as he tries to hold back the oncoming headache, knowing more memories are about to fill his head.

When he opens his eyes he’s kneeling on a wooden floor. In one hand he clutches a pocket watch and in the other is his son’s hand. Blood pools around his knees, but he could care less. It’s colder than it should be so soon after death.

The scene shifts and he’s collapsed on a rocky beach. His suit is tattered and torn, and most of his gadgets have been damaged beyond repair. A boot stomps dangerously close to his head and a hand grabs his hair and painfully yanks his head up. 

Once again it shifts and he’s surrounded by darkness. The only thing he can see for miles is the creature he should despise. Instead he’s just made a deal with the devil. Regret fills him instantly as he realizes his mistake and his souls slams backwards. 

Again and he’s in a cement room, pain stinging every inch of his skin. Again and he’s in a courtroom, losing a custody case. Again and he’s failing to save his best friend from the demon he’d created. 

Finally, he’s returned to his own body, sprawled across the cold floor of the mindscape; his headache fading slightly with each breath. He pushes himself up to lean against the equally chilly wall as he tries to catch his breath. Jack is crouched in front of him, but makes no move to help. He mutters something under his breath that Sean doesn’t catch. 

Sean swallows, his mind racing with a wealth of new information. He could now see every moment any one of the egos or Jack had ever experienced with just a thought. Any action, hour, day, week, year was now his. Any semblance of privacy they had thought they had was gone in an instant. He hated it. 

“How do you feel?” Jack asks. 

“Like hell,” Sean mutters in response. 

Jack hums and stands. He turns back to the table to examine the button once more. It had reverted back to the way it was before Sean had touched it, only now it looked less bright. That could also be because of the nine emotions coursing through him all at once. Everything was fuzzy. His arms were stuck between feeling and numb. His thoughts were foggy, melding together into one big mess. 

A curse rings out from Jack and there’s a loud crash. The table is broken in half and collapsed on the ground. Jack stands over the table, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He yells again and kicks a broken piece of table. Sean presses himself backwards into the wall, trying to make himself smaller. The last time Jack had been this angry… He didn’t want to think about it. 

Jack grabs the button from the wreckage and chucks it across the room. Desperate to get away from his rage, Sean pushes himself to his feet and steps away even further. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. Finding an ounce of courage he didn’t know he had, he steps towards Jack and puts his brave face on. That courage drains as Jack turns on him, rage burning in his blue eyes. 

“What the hell did you do?” Jack flies forward and grabs him by the collar, “Why the hell can’t I access it?”

Sean averts his gaze and pulls back. Surprisingly, Jack lets him go. “I-I don’t know. I only knew what it did, not how it worked.”

A bit of the rage dissipates from his eyes, “Great…” Jack mutters as he kicks at a piece of the table, “Now I have to rely on you to tell me what I need to know.”

“Why’d you make me touch it if you wanted what it had?” Sean asks. 

“To make sure it was safe. If you got hurt from it then I wouldn’t have tried it at all,” He says.

Sean snorts, somehow finding a strange bit of humor in his ignorance, “If I had gotten hurt from that, you would have too.”

Jack just glares at him and turns back around to pace the floor in thought. Sean watches him, more than a bit worried about what he was planning. A few moments later, Jack waves his hand and a chair forms from the broken pieces of table. “Sit,” he commands. Sean doesn’t have to be told twice. He scurries over to the chair and practically falls into it. Jack crosses the room and opens the door. Sean stands to follow, but Jack waves a hand again and he’s forced back down. “You’ll stay here so I can keep an eye on you. I trust you can keep yourself entertained.”

“I’ve been doing that for the past three years,” Sean says bitterly. Jack grins and closes the door behind himself, leaving Sean alone.

Just like always.


	4. Chapter 4

Brighton Beach was always peaceful no matter what time of day, but there was something about nighttime that made it even more serene. The soft crashing of the Atlantic waves and the drifting smells from the boardwalk combined with the quiet of night made the experience twice as good.

It wasn’t often Jackie came here during his nightly patrol, but after the hecticness of the day it was almost calling to him. Normally the beach was empty this time of night, which is why it was a surprise to see a lone figure lounging on the rocks. 

“Are you alright, sir?” He asks as he approaches the man. Sometimes drunks from local bars would wander off too far and end up on the beach. When ever he saw one, he made sure to lead them away so they didn’t accidentally drown. 

The man raises his head and he can finally see who it is. Chase snorts, “Are any of us really?” He raises his arm to take a swing from his beer can. 

Jackie sits down next to him, somewhat glad it was just his friend. “I suppose you do have a point,” he says solemnly. Chase offers him the can, but he dismisses it with a flick of his wrist. 

“Don’t you have more important things to do than sitting here? Like superhero stuff? Saving people and all that?” Chase asks.

He shrugs, “Probably, but I can’t concentrate. I’ll get hurt if I can’t concentrate,” Pointing to the stinging bruise forming on his cheek, he sighs. “Too much has happened today, and like always, we come out more confused than we were before.”

“Too true,” Chase grumbles and takes another swig from the can, “I just wish they wouldn’t keep leaving us in the dark, ya know?” 

“Yeah,” Jackie nods. The waves crashing along the shore overlap his thoughts, calming his hyperactive mind. There was something soothing about the sound of the water. Everytime he came down here, it always felt as if his worries were miles behind him. Like nothing was going wrong. Maybe that was why he was down here a lot recently.

Chase drains the last few drops of his beer and crumples it. “I’m scared for them, Jackie,” He whispers as he stares down at the scrunched tin.

“Me too,” Jackie says. 

“What if something happens to them?” He continues, “Hell, what if something has  _ already _ happened to them? That fucking glitch has probably taken them to the same place he took Jack and Henrik. They’re probably dead already or-”

“Hey,” Jackie puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him, “We’ve got to stay positive, okay.” That was the most hypocritical statement he’d made in a while, but he’d roll with it. Maybe whatever speech he was about to give Chase would help him too. “It’s not wrong of you to worry, but we have to keep in mind the fact that Marvin and Jameson can hold their own. Hell, Marv’s  _ the _ most powerful person I’ve ever know. They’re going to be okay.”   


Chase meets his eyes, tears welling in his own, “But why can’t you track his magic then? You said you could do that, right? If they really are okay, why can’t we tell where at least Marvin is?” He balls his shaking hands into fists.

Jackie had no answer for that. He really didn’t know why he couldn’t track Marvin’s magic. “Maybe,” He says as he tries to come up with a somewhat reasonable answer, “Maybe what happened in the mindscape did something to it. It might have changed something about it so that what I was looking for didn’t match what he had. Or it could be because I synced the tracker with the magic he had while Anti was in control of him, they might have different magics.” 

Marvin technically had gained his powers while Anti was using him as a human puppet, and if the glitch wasn’t in control of him anymore, then the magic could be different somehow. He didn’t know enough about magic to understand how that would even work, but it at least sounded reasonable. Chase seemed to be satisfied with the answer as well. He relaxes his fists a little. 

Jackie stands and reaches out a hand for Chase to grab, “Come on. You should be going home. I’ll walk with you.” 

Chase sighs, but accepts the hand to help himself up, stumbling a bit as he slips on the slick stones of the beach. They walk back to the house silently. The back streets are quiet, no surprise, but even as they reach the downtown part of the city, it seems quieter than normal. Almost as if the entire city of Brighton was holding its breath. Few cars pass along the road, leaving their silence undisturbed. 

It’s around one in the morning by the time they make it back to the house. The trek from the beach felt longer than it normally was, like time was stretched and slowed. A lone light is on in Henrik’s office. Even after the incident earlier that day, he was still working late into the night like always. Either that or he had fallen asleep at his desk again. 

“I’ll let you know if I learn anything,” Chase says as he unlocks the door.

“Thanks,” Jackie says.

Chase waves tiredly over his shoulder and enters the house. Jackie springs off to land on the roof as the door shuts behind him. His boots gripped the surface tightly, as they were meant to, but he still felt as if one wrong step would send him plummeting down to the earth below. The fear of heights he’d inherited from Jack wasn’t going away no matter how many times he climbed anything. He jumped from one house to the next, trying not to pay attention to how many meters separated him from the ground. Buzzes of crime reports flew through his ears, but he didn’t pay attention to any of them. 

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be out of bed yet. He still had a few more days of regulated bed rest, but he wasn’t about to rest now. There had been reports of a potential new villain on the rise and he wasn’t going to let them terrorize the city. Plus, he still had to figure out what exactly that mob wanted with him. It was possible these two things were connected, but he didn’t have enough information about either yet.

Spending multiple days in bed did have it’s perks however. He had all that time to research the new possible arch-nemesis. From what he found, his most probable match was Quinn Buck, aka: the Slipper; a man in his mid-twenties that had just recently graduated from college with a degree in special effects. Jackie had tracked him to an apartment building near the edge of town and decided while walking Chase home that he would investigate the area.

The building in question turned out not to be an apartment building. At first, he’d thought that he’d gotten the location mixed up, but there it was. It matched the address that he’d found, just not the description. Instead, in front of him was an old warehouse that looked like it could have been from the early twentieth-century. Most of the windows were boarded over, which would make it difficult to enter quietly.

As quietly as possible, he pried off the boards covering a window and slipped inside. Judging by the lack of dust on the ground, someone must have been here recently. A building this old and abandoned should have inches of dust covering the ground. The floorboards creaked as he tiptoed through the empty room. Scanning for heat signatures, he found that there was one other person in the building just below him. If he was extremely lucky, they wouldn’t have heard him walking though the building. 

There was no sense in hiding, so he carefully made his way down to where the person was. His sensors picked up more than a few traps that he easily disabled as he made his way through the staircase. Finally, he entered the room where he’d picked up heat signatures before. The room was empty save for a lone chair, perfectly placed in the center of the room. Suddenly, the lights flicked off. Jackie reached for his stunners at his hips. The lights flickered back on and sitting in the chair was a man straight out of a comic book.

The best description of him was flamboyant. Green and purple striped his suit in various dizzying patterns. A violet bowler hat sat atop his messy blond hair. His teeth were white as pearls, basically reflecting the fluorescent light back at him.

“We finally meet, Jackieboy,” He elegantly drapes his arms over the back of the chair, crossing his legs with a bit of flair, “I have no doubt that by now you at least have an idea of who I am, so I won’t bother with introducing myself.”

“Quinn Buck, I presume then?” Jackie doesn’t take his hands off his stunners, but rehosters them in his belt. He didn’t want to hurt Buck if he had to.

Quinn almost looked surprised at the use of his name, but the expression vanished quite quickly, “My, we’ve done our research, haven’t we. Two can play at that game, Jackie Mann.” 

It was Jackie’s turn to be surprised. He never exactly tried to hide his real name, hell his superhero name basically gave it away. Yet, no one had ever actually guessed correctly. “Well done. You are officially the first person to figure that out.”

Quinn looked pleased with himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jackie, but I think we have some unfinished business.”

“And what would that be?”

“Do you remember the final fight with the Puppeteer?” He asks, suddenly growing dark. Without waiting for an answer, he continues, “The destruction and mayhem that followed that battle? Do you know how many people were killed then?”

Jackie looked away. The final battle with the Puppeteer was always something people brought up when they wanted to shame him. “Of course I do. I know each and every one of them.”

Quinn stands and approaches him, “My boyfriend died when  _ you  _ destroyed his parent’s home. They weren’t there, luckily, but he was.” 

It hurt that he knew exactly which person Quinn was talking about. Gregg Pasas. He’d attended his funeral himself. “Gregg, wasn’t it?” He struggled to keep his voice steady, refusing to break here.

“Yes,” Quinn’s voice grows soft. “I promised I would avenge him, and I don’t break my promises.” His hands light up with a burning flame. 

Jackie takes a step back to avoid the fire. “Quinn, I understand you’re hurting. Losing a loved one is never easy, but is this the right way to go about grieving for him? Is this what he would have wanted?” 

“He always hated the idea of you superheros. He would be standing next to me right if he could!” He yells raising his flaming fists. “Now… Now I can take my revenge for him.” He hurls a fireball at Jackie who just barely dodges out of the way. Next come the punches that come close to breaking his recently healed bones. It’s not long until the building around them is burning to ashes.

“Quinn!” Jackie yells over the roar of the fire, “You need to stop this! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“If it’s after I kill you, it will be worth it,” He growls back and lunges at him. After that, everything seems to blur together. The wooden floor beneath Quinn breaks as he steps on it and he falls through, scrambling for a hand hold.

Jackie shouts and peers down the hole. Quinn had fallen through three stories and lay on the concrete ground on the bottom floor. He jumps down and heaved his body over his shoulder to carry him outside. 

Once a safe distance away, Jackie set him down. He didn’t even have to check for a pulse to know that he was dead. His head hung backwards at an unnatural angle and his skull was split open, exposing his brain for all to see. When the authorities arrived, they thanked him for ridding the city of a potential threat, but he didn’t feel like he’d accomplished anything. 

He went home that night to a dark house. Everyone was finally asleep. The quiet wouldn’t do any good for his mind, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He went to bed, tossing and turning as the faces of the dead haunted him.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning bird song wakes Signe. The bedroom around her is unfamiliar for a moment, before she remembers spending the night at Robin’s. She sits up and glances out the window. The sun hardly pokes over the horizon showing just how early it is. Groaning, she falls back into the pillows. She closes her eyes and buries herself in the covers in an attempt to get a little more sleep before she had to leave. After even a few minutes accompanied by an overactive imagination it was pretty clear there wasn’t any way she was going to be able to fall asleep again. She sits up and fishes through her backpack for the journal.

She’d lost count of how many times she’d read through it. There wasn’t a page that she hadn’t poured over as she looked for any sort of answer. It was hard to believe any of the things written on the pages, but why else would they be there if they weren’t true? Flipping towards the back, she continued where she’d left off the night before.

 _October 31, 2016_         _Lab Notes_

_Day 22_

_While recording a video for Halloween, 207 possesed Jack and slit his throat. There had been signs of him slowly breaking through his strings, but we’d thought we had control over him. Luckily, I was able to get to Jack in time. I gave him a small dose of the latest version of AN7-1. I can only hope it works._

_Jack is in my office recovering at the moment . He is awake, but not responding to anything I say or do to him. Earlier I tried to give him some food, but he didn’t even look at me. It was almost as if he was in some sort of limbo state. If this is a side effect from AN7-1… No, I cannot think like that. Jack will be okay. He has to. Otherwise, what will happen to us?_

_November 1, 2016_

_Jack’s responding to me today. Thank God. He wouldn’t react to anything at all yesterday. I had the others come in and try things. Jackie basically set off a bomb and he didn’t even flinch. The only thing he remembers from yesterday is filming the video. He claims that nothing went wrong. Sure he got a weird nosebleed and heard some spooky sounds, but it was Halloween. That’s what happens on Halloween apparently._

_I’ve halted all testing on 207 for the time being. He’s back in his cell, locked away from the rest of us. I wonder if it was the “trip” Jack sent him on that caused this. I don’t know the specifics of what 207 was forced to do or see, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. Rest assured, 207 won’t be getting through_ this _pleasantly._

Signe shut the book. After reading all of the other horrible things that Jack and Henrik had done, she couldn’t imagine what they would do to someone who wronged them. It was also peculiar to see just how powerful Jack was, and yet Anti always seemed to have the upper hand. Was there a reason for that? Or was Jack weaker than the creation he and Henrik made? It was hard to tell.

She swings her legs out from underneath the warm comforter, raising goosebumps on the bare skin. She pulls the extra pair of clothes from her backpack and smooths them out next to her. A sweatshirt and sweatpants always worked for easy and light packing. She slips into the clothes, then enters the adjacent bathroom to wash her face.

She steps out the bedroom door and is hit with the heavenly scent of coffee. She follows the smell into the kitchen where Robin is preparing something at the stove. He throws a tired smile over his shoulder as she enters. “Mornin’,”

“Good morning,” She says.

Robin hands her a mug of coffee and turns back to scrambling his eggs. She takes a sip of the coffee. It’s a little sweeter than she likes, but she wasn’t going to complain. A few minutes later, Robin hands her a plate of scrambled eggs and a bagel. She thanks him as he sits down across from her.

Robin clears his throat, “You sleep well?”

“As well as I could,” She shrugs. “Better than the past few nights though.” The past few nights she hadn’t slept at all as she was more worried about reading the journal entries than anything.

“That’s good,” Robin fills his mouth with a forkful of eggs.

They finish the meal in a content silence. Afterwards, Signe insists on washing up since Robin had cooked. She felt mildly guilt about suddenly invading his house, and him making her food this morning. Helping with the dishes helped alleviate some of that guilt, but most of it remained.

“How long are you planning on staying? You can stay for as long as you’d like, y’know?” Robin asks as she places the last dish in the drying rack.

“I’m planning on going back home to Denmark later today,” She shakes her hands dry.

“Not back to Brighton?” Robin inquires.

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t think I could face Jack- or any of them for that matter -after reading the journal. Plus, I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

“That’s fair,” Robin nods.

“I’m surprised all of that went on, and I never even picked up on a hint of it,” She leans back against the counter. “Our home wasn’t _that_ big. I wasn’t even aware Henrik even had an office there.”

“To be fair, it went under even Sean’s nose,” He points out. “If he didn’t suspect anything then it’s not unreasonable that you didn’t either. I just can’t believe that the man we’ve known for so long _wasn’t_ Sean.”

Signe nods, “Yeah…” She excuses herself and returns to the guest room to pack her stuff. The train she planned on catching left in less than three hours. If she missed this one, the next one wouldn’t come until nighttime. As much as she enjoyed Robin’s company, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him either. He worked for Jack and could be as much of a puppet as Anti once was. Her plan was to return back to Denmark and stay there until she’d distanced herself enough from Jack’s madness that she her family were safe. There was no telling what he’d do if he found out she’d learned the truth. She couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t come for her.

She pulls out the journal, running a finger along the faux leather cover. Setting it on the nightstand, she turns and exits the room. There was no need for her to keep it anymore. Robin would find more use out of it than she would. Whether it be to turn her in to Jack or to learn more himself.

Robin sits in the living room with his laptop balanced on his knees. He glances up as she enters the room. “You know where you have to go?”

“Hopefully. It shouldn’t too hard to find. Although, these maps can be confusing,” She chuckles, looking at the map on her phone.

“Would you like some help?” Robin asks, sensing exactly what she was impling.

Signe scratches at the back of her neck, “If it’s not too big of a hassle.” She’d be lying if she said that she understood where she was supposed to go. The streets here were set up in a strange curving and tangling way that it was almost impossible for her to make out where one started and another ended.

He closes his laptop and stands, “I’ll walk you. It’ll do me some good to get out of the house for once,” Slipping his shoes on, he gestures for her to follow him. “How long do you have?”

Robin must take her on the scenic route, because while her the map app on her phone claimed it would only take twenty minutes to walk, it takes them almost forty to arrive at the train station. Luckily, it was a nice day out and the early morning streets of Sweden were quite beautiful. Colorful flowers decorated most home windows, giving life to even the dullest of houses. Most lawns were well kept and many even had small gardens. Smells of bread and pastries wafted out of coffee houses and bakeries as they opened for the day.

The train station wasn’t anything fancy or grand. It was modern to say the least, but it also retained an older build that showed just how long ago it was built. Stones at the corners have withered away from the elements. Neat rose bushes were planted in rows in front of tall, multi-colored windows.

“I’ll leave you here. I trust that you can find your way through the train station?” Robin asks. His hair was slightly mussed by the breeze that had been blowing. Signe couldn’t imagine hers looked any better.

She chuckles. “I certainly hope so. It doesn’t seem that confusing.”

“You were getting confused by the roads here,” He points out.

“Maybe I just wanted a friend to come along with me,” She retorts playfully.

He shakes his head, “Have a safe trip, Wiish.”

“See you soon,” She waves at him and turns around, ready to finally go home.


	6. Chapter 6

Jameson had planned on explaining everything to Anti and Marvin when he managed to finally get them alone, he really did, but Red and Ben apparently had other ideas. They separated them and Red led the two off to the guest room hall while Ben escorted Jameson to his old bedroom. Everything was familiar, and yet it was as if he’d never seen it before. The halls were painted a different color, the normally rotting floorboards had been replaced with newer ones, and the lights definitely weren’t flickering as much as they used to. Their recent clients must have been paying well. Yet, it still felt like home. 

A pang goes through his heart. While it had only been two years since he’d last lived in the building for everyone else, it had been over four for him. Four years since he’d slept, ate, and trained within these walls. And here he was now, back in the place he’d thought impossible for him to return to. It was almost surreal to think about. 

Seeing his bedroom almost made him tear up instantly, although he could have blamed it on the  _ inches  _ of dust spread throughout the room. It was clear no one had even opened the door for quite some time. He coughs into his elbow as a cloud of dust flies up his nose. He steps into the room, acting as natural as he could, but it was hard when so many memories were being refreshed.

“Sorry about the dust,” Ben apologizes as he enters the room behind Jameson. “No one wanted to disturb your stuff since we did know when you were coming back.”

Jameson shrugs, “ **It’s fine. I’ll just have to do some dusting.** ” An upside-down picture frame sitting on the nightstand catches his eye. He turns it over and his breath catches as he sees who the picture is of. Three smiling faces look back at him: a woman, a five-year old boy, and himself. A lump rises in his throat as he tightens his grip on the picture, as if holding it tighter would somehow bring them back from the dead.

Ben rests a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. It doesn’t work. After the two years of being away from this place, from this time, he’d thought that he would be over their deaths. Instead, it hurt to even walk into the building where he’d met Samantha, where Chris had been born early one April morning, where he’d shared countless laughs with his friends and Anton-

Anton. Sadness turns to anger as he recalls the shadowy figure restraining an innocent woman with a gun to her head. The man laughed and taunted him to save them even though he’d been bound to a chair with the thickest rope he’d ever seen. The once blue, now green eyes of the man he’d once trusted bored into his own as blood spilled from the heads of the ones he loved.

He sets the picture frame down, desperate to stop remembering, and turns back to Ben, “ **Is Alex still leading this place?** ”

“Yeah. You haven’t been gone for that long,” Ben says, unable to understand the irony of that statement. “They left for a job a few days ago. Should be back by tomorrow afternoon at least.”

“Or he’s here right now about to tell you that you need to be doing your job, Benjamin,” Alex stands in the doorway with their hands on their hips. They shake their head as they step into the room, “Come on now, Ben. You should be able to detect me by now. How long have we known each other?” 

Ben struggles to find an excuse, “Sorry, I was-”

“Just go back to your post. And make sure Red’s there too. We don’t need any of the Italians getting in here,” Alex waves him off. Once Ben is out the door, they free their blond hair from it’s ponytail as their face breaks into a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Jameson.”

“ **You too, Alex. It’s been too long,** ” Jameson sits on the bed, a cloud of dust flying into the air.

Alex sits next to him, “Indeed it has. We’ve missed you, you know? All three of you.” 

Jameson dips his head, grief spreading through him once more. Was this how it was going to be any time anyone brought that night up? After two years of keeping it a secret and not speaking of it to anyone until only a few days before, now he was going to be overwhelmed with apologies and well-wishes. He couldn’t tell if he dreaded it or not.

“We don’t have to speak of it if you don’t want to. Not now at least. But you’re going to have to tell the story eventually to stop the rumors that’ve been spreading.” Alex admits. 

“ **Rumors?** ” He asks, “ **What kind of rumors?** ”

They hesitate. “About who actually committed the murder,” They look down at their shoes. “I don’t believe it, but some people here think that you did it.”

“ _ What! _ ” Jameson cries unable to hide his shock. He realizes his mistake all too late and his breath hitches in his throat. Trying to hide the telepathy was a failed venture then. If he was lucky, Alex wouldn’t think anything of it and continue on with the conversation like normal. 

They stare at him, unblinking and obviously aware that they had just heard his voice  _ inside their head. _ Alex opens and closes their mouth as they try to find the words to express the shock so evident on their face. “Did you just-” They take a deep breath, “Did you just say something  _ inside  _ my head? No, no, you couldn’t have. That’s impossible. It’s-”

“ _ It’s the truth, _ ” Jameson finishes. He could trust Alex with this information, right? His best friend since they were little was someone he could trust. Hell, this would be an easier way of communicating than struggling to remember a form of communication he hadn’t used in years. 

“Fascinating…” Alex murmurs, “How is it possible? Telepathic communication is the stuff of science fiction, and yet here you are.”

“ _ It’s magic, I suppose, _ ” Jameson shrugs. 

“You don’t even know?” They ask.

“ _ I know how I got it. Not how it works. My friend, Marvin, the one I brought with me, is a master at finding ways to bend reality, _ ” As he says this, he realizes that it wasn’t really Marvin who gifted him the ‘voice’. It was still strange to think about how the Marvin he thought he knew wasn’t the same person as the real Marvin.

Alex shakes their head, “I never would have believed it to be possible.”

“ _ I wouldn’t’ve either,”  _ He says, “ _ Somethings you have to experience for yourself to truly understand.” _

“You really do,” They agree. They stand and look at the picture frame, “I still can’t believe it. Sorry, I’m bringing it up again. I should stop doing that.”

“ _ No, actually, _ ” Jameson says, surprising Alex and himself, “ _ I think I need to talk to someone about it. About everything. _ ” 

“Everything? What else happened?”

“ _ So many things... _ ”

Jameson takes a deep breath, and starts from the very beginning. The fateful night that changed his life and ended two others. “ _ I had just come home from work that evening. As soon as I stepped through the door, I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke… When I awoke I was tied to a chair and found Samantha and Christopher standing in front of me with a gun pressed to her head. Anton was holding the gun. He killed them, in cold blood. The only thing he left behind was a pocket watch that I had given him for his birthday a few days before he disappeared.” _

Alex gaped at him. “Anton? As in your brother Antonio who’s role I took over, and who we trusted with our lives? That Anton?” 

“ _ Unfortunately.” _

They crinkle their nose and gesture for him to continue. So he does. Something in him was compelling him to tell them. Whether it be the comfort he found in the old friend, or the need to get everything off his chest. He tells them about fiddling with the pocket watch and ending up centuries in the future and how he met the other egos. He tells them about the struggle against Anti and how they were all just puppets in someone else’s game. He tells them about Jack and Henrik’s return and the quiet months that followed after. Then, the chaos of the past few weeks. From the blisteringly hot day when it all started, to learning the truth as they stood inside their own mind. 

He tells them everything. 

It’s almost three in the morning by the time he finishes. Alex had listened quietly, only chiming in every so often to ask questions, sometimes accidentally leading him off topic. It was therapeutic in a way he couldn’t comprehend to spill the events to someone who hadn’t lived them. He understood why Chase enjoyed talking to his therapist so much now. 

“I can’t believe it. It’s such a far fetched story, and yet it somehow makes sense,” Alex says as he digests the information. “That and I know you’re not creative enough to come up with a story that crazy,” 

Jameson chuckles. He may be able to act out someone else’s story, but coming up with his own was basically impossible. “ _ It even seems crazy saying some of the stuff out loud. I don’t know what was going through my head when it was all happening. _ ”

It’s silent for a moment before Alex looks at their watch and yawns. They stand and stretch their arms above their head. “I should get going. It’s been a long day and as much as I enjoy spending time with you, I should get some sleep.”

“ _ Understandable. I should probably get some shut eye myself,”  _ Jameson says.

“Good night, Jameson.”

“ _ Good night. _ ”

They exit the room, leaving Jameson alone. He lays back on the bed, letting up yet another cloud of dust. Tomorrow he would get Marvin and have his cast some sort of spell to help rid the room of the layers of dust, but right now, he was going to get some sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

“And you still have no idea how he managed to pull it off?” Robin’s voice was grainy through the low-quality Skype video. The reason that they were using Skype was because Robin’s Discord wasn’t working for whatever reason. No matter how many times he tried to connect to a call, it never worked. His chin rests atop his left hand as he mindlessly doodles with the right. Not looking up, he shakes his head in thought, “Why would they do something like that?”

Jack leans back in his chair. He had a very good idea of why Jameson and Marvin had run off with Anti; in fact, he knew exactly why, but, for his own good, Robin didn’t need to know all of the details. If he knew what truly had happened to Anti and Sean, who knows what he might do. He wouldn’t support him anymore that’s for sure. “I don’t know. They just disappeared without leaving anything behind. Or taking anything with them for that matter…”

“Maybe they’re planning on coming back, then. If they didn’t take anything,” Robin looks up, tapping his chin. “When did they leave again?”

“Yesterday,” Jack sighs, “I’ve been monitoring their rooms, nothing’s been taken or even moved.” 

“Yet. Nothings been taken or moved  _ yet. _ ” Robin points a finger at him. “Give them time. It’s been less than a day. They’ll be okay.”

“There’s too much that can happen in less than a day,” Jack wraps an arm around himself, grabbing his shoulder. “I don’t want them to get hurt.”

Robin nods, “No one does. No one wants to see them hurt. But something tells me that they’ll be okay. I promise you.”

“How do you know?” He snaps, leaning forward in his chair. Add a bit of flair. Make Robin believe he cared about them. He had no reason not to, but he could never be too careful. “You don’t know Anti like I do. You haven’t seen him so angry that his eyes turn  _ red _ . You haven’t been trapped inside your own head and forced to deal with a monster you had a part in creating for over a year! You don’t know him like I do, Robin. If he wants to hurt them, he  _ will _ .” 

The memories of his imprisonment inside the mindscape were particularly painful. It was never supposed to be as bad as it got. Anti had somehow cut his own strings, or maybe had some help, and Jack lost his grip on his most powerful weapon. It also meant that the glitch could do whatever he wanted to him and Henrik, leading to the  _ months  _ of painful torture.

Robin patiently waits for him to finish. That wasn’t the first time he’d exploded like that, and it most likely wouldn’t be the last either. He’d witnessed a lot more, and a lot worse outbursts in the past. “You’re right,” he calmly reassures him. “You know all of them better than I do. But we’ve got to have some hope, right?”

He swallows back the growing lump in his throat, calming himself, “Yes… Yes, you- you’re right. Thank you.”

In truth, he was worried about them. Anti was unpredictable. There was never any hints about what he would do or when he would do it. That’s why he was so frustrated to lose him in the end. He was a good villain, not that he wasn’t the antagonist anymore, but not having him as a puppet anymore was making things challenging. 

_ Stop.  _ He mentally scolds himself. He shouldn’t be so worried. Getting too invested in them would distract him from their true purpose. To be characters. He bites his tongue to keep himself from saying anything, trying to focus on how he could spin the tale to his advantage. There weren’t a lot of ways he could, but he’d figure something out.

“Anytime, Sean,” Something flickers behind Robin’s eyes as he says this, but it’s hard to tell what through the grainy video. Robin clears his throat, “I’ve actually got a question. It may not be the best time to ask it, but I was thinking about it the other day and it won’t stop bugging me.”

“Go ahead,” he sits back in the chair.

“You remember Jack. As in, like, ego Jack? What happened to him?” Robin looks back down at his doodles, examining one as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

He raises an eyebrow, but goes along with it anyway, “He left. Said he didn’t want anything to do with this any more and moved away somewhere. Don know where and haven’t heard from him since. Why?” The lie felt bitter in his mouth. At least it wasn’t as bad as when he had to tell Signe the same thing. She couldn’t know the truth. Neither of them could.    
  
Robin shrugs, “Just thought of it the other day and found that I couldn’t remember what the reason was.”

Jack grunts softly. Suddenly, a loud knock comes from the door. Without waiting for any sort of confirmation, Henrik bursts into the room. His hair sticks up everywhere, and his eyes burn in frustration. He composes himself a bit when he sees the active Skype call. “Oh hello, Robin. I vasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Hello, Henrik. How are you?” Robin greets. There’s a strange bitterness to his voice.  

“A bit annoyed, but ostervise I am alright,” Henrik says, “Jack, can I talk to you? Alone?”

He frowns. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, Hen. Can it wait?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Robin flicks his hand dismissively, “I’ll call you later. Go help with whatever Henrik needs.”

“Alright. Talk to you soon,” He sighs, ends the call, and turns around to face the doctor. “What is it that you need?” 

“I’ll show you,” Henrik grabs his hand and pulls him out of the room, leading him to his office which can only be described as a disaster. Cabinets are thrown open; their contents carelessly thrown onto the floor. Medical tools have been tossed from their trays and scattered across the floor. Paperwork is strewn around his desk like snow. Makeshift paths snake around the room, leading to nowhere.

Jack’s jaw falls open. In all the time that he’d known Henrik, he had  _ never _ been a messy person. This kind of mess was absurd for him. “What… what happened here?” He kicks a box out of his way as he attempts to walk into the room.

Henrik scratches his head, suddenly awkward, “I lose my journal,” he explains, “Zee one zat I uzed to record all of zee tests I conducted a vhile ago. I started a new experiment and vanted to record it, but it is not in its spot anymore.”

“Strange…” Jack mutters. That was another thing he’d never known the doctor to do. Misplace things. He always had everything in its own specific place and knew exactly where everything was. “Where was it before?” Henrik points him to a cabinet across the room. 

Weaving through the maze of drugs, medical paraphernalia, and old lab coats, he makes his way to the cabinet. Henrik stands next to him and brushes his hand along where the journal used to be. Nothing marks that it had been stolen; though that could be a possibility, albeit a improbable one. The cabinet wasn’t forced open or anything. If someone took it, they either had a key or it was already unlocked “Strange,” he mutters again. “Very strange.”

Henrik nods, “Indeed. Zis experiment cannot vait. If I don’t attend to it periodically, it could become dangerous.”

Jack gives him an incredulous look. He knew the drug that Henrik was testing was dangerous, but he was able to leave even Antonio alone for periods of time. Although, that may not be the best example seeing how that turned out in the end. He sighs, “What have you done this time, Hen?”

“I may or may not hafe created zee living dead,” Henrik says sheepishly. 

He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Great. So Henrik could potentially be starting the zombie apocalypse. As if he didn’t already have enough to worry about. 

“I’m taking care of it!” He reassures him, “He is fery tame as long as you keep him fed, and rather nice company… somehow. But I vould like to be able to record vat I am learning. It could be fery beneficial.”

“Yeah, I get it. I get it. Just, I’ll look around, and ask Chase and Jackie if they’ve seen anything as well,” Jack says dismissively, annoyed that he now had this to worry about as well. Only Henrik would find a zombie good company.

“Is zat a good idea? Bringing zem into zis?” Henrik asks. “Zey could learn somesing zey vouldn’t vant to?”

Jack rolls his eyes, “They’ve been in this since their creation. As well as every time you’ve used that ‘miracle drug’ on them. If I have to control them to get the answer, so be it. I’ve had to do that enough recently.”

Henrik hums in agreement and turns back to the mess around them. “Vould you mind helping me clean this up?”

He sighs, “Fine.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Just want to let you know that this chapter was not edited in the slightest. I finished it late last night and didn’t bother trying to fix anything. If you wish to point out any errors, go ahead and do so. I’ll try to fix them ASAP.

The underground floor of the hospital that Henrik had discovered wasn’t the most appealing place, but it definitely served the purpose he used it for. Deep in the halls, far away from any stairwells or elevators, he continued to conduct his experiments on former patients. Not everyone of them could be used, people would get suspicious. It was just enough that he learned what needed to be changed and improved. 

The basement was a quiet place. The only way in was through a door marked “DO NOT ENTER” at the bottom of one of the stairwells. The other stairwells had obvious markings of what used to be a door, but there was nothing there anymore. Empty elevator shafts gaped open without the sliding doors to cover them. There was a constant drip of water somewhere, but the source was hard to find.  

Henrik enters the room, new notebook at his side. After losing the last one, he had to find another one that would work. Losing the other notebook meant that he’d lost all of his notes and journal entries from the 207 experiments and on. It was annoying, but he would manage. 

In the back corner of the room was his new patient. The poor fellow had died while Henrik was next to him due to a head injury after a brutal car crash. Immediately, he’d given him the drug to try and save him. It brought him back to life, but not fully. None of his organs were active except for his brain, and yet he somehow was able to move around and attempt to talk. His hair and iris’ each turned a light shade of purple. His nails began to peel and fall off. The skin that hadn’t rotted away was also an unnatural purple color. There wasn’t much explanation as to why he had turned purple, but that wasn’t what he was testing.

The man was curled around himself, and his head pops up as he hears Henrik approach. He sniffs the air, smelling the meal that he had brought him with an abnormally strong nose. He clambers to his good leg and limps over to him. He reminded Henrik of a puppy as he was easily excitable and ran as fast as his deteriorating legs could take him when he smelled food. 

Henrik pulled the satchel off his shoulder and slid it onto the aging desk against the wall. The zombie eagerly waited behind him, tapping his bare foot against the tiled floor. Digging through the bag, he pulls the cooked chicken out and sets it next to him. Immediately, the man digs in. Noisily devouring the food as fast as he could.

“ _ Langsam _ , Robbie _. _ ” He chuckles.  _ Slow down.  _ He knew that he won’t listen anyway, nor could he understand the doctor’s native language, but it was almost a habit from his brief period of being a father.

Robbie doesn’t even acknowledge that he spoke, focusing on his chicken instead. He was a rather messy eater given that he was missing half of his mouth and a few fingers. That doesn’t slow him down any though. 

Eventually, he finishes his meal. Robbie looks up at him, as if expecting more food. He waves his hand dismissively and instructs him to leave him alone for a few minutes. The zombie growls, but does as he’s told. Henrik opens up his notebook to the first blank page. He’d already made a few notes recounting what he’d learned since accidentally turning Robbie into the thing he was now. He didn’t want to call him a monster since he was so well behaved, but he wasn’t truly human either anymore. He wasn’t exactly sure what to call him other than his name and zombie.

_ August 14, 2019 _ __ __ _ Lab Notes _

_ Robbie, Experiment #236 _ __ __ _ Day 1 _

He sets up the page like normal, then turns to face the zombie. “ _ Bereit?” Ready?  _ He was also trying to see if he could teach him another language and how he reacted to that. It wasn’t going too well so far, but no experiment went well at the very beginning.

The zombie seems to notice that he’s being spoken to and looks up at the doctor. Henrik smiles at him, and explains in English that he was going to take a sample of his skin to see how the cells were holding up. Normally Robbie was okay with samples, allowing himself to be brushed, and poked, and prodded with all sorts of instruments, but he snarls at the doctor, baring his holey mouth.

Frowning, the doctor kneels down in front of him, “Look. I know zat zees samples aren’t fun, but eef I am to help you, you must trust me. Okay?”

Robbie only snarls again, spit flying into the doctor’s face. He scrambles away, returning to his dark corner. Pulling his knees into his chest, he resumes the same position he was in when Henrik had arrived. 

“Robbie,” Henrik scolds, “Zis is to help you. I promise.” He carefully approaches 236. There was no way of knowing if confided to the typical stories of the undead, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. Never before was there record of a living-dead creature. Henrik was in uncharted territory, and the wildlife could kill him. If he was attacked by the zombie, would a bite turn him like it was always shown? Or would it just become grossly infected? It was impossible to know.

The zombie curls even further into himself, as if trying to disappear. Henrik rests a hand onto his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. “We’ve done zis before,  _ Recht _ ? And we’ll do it again. Vith or vithout your permission.” He was done playing nice. He was going to find the results of this test if it killed him. 

Suddenly, 236’s head shoots up. He snarls up at Henrik, and in one swift kick, knocks him off his feet. Henrik lands on his back, frozen for a moment with shock. The zombie clambers clumsily over him; his eyes blaze with fury and madness. Henrik tries to shake him off, but his grip is surprisingly steel strong. Teeth snap in front of his face, threatening to take a bite. Somehow, he manages to loosen his grip and rolls out of the way. 

Searching for a weapon, he finds a bit of pipe laying in the corner. He snatches that and brings it down on top of 236’s head. Black blood spews from the wound that caves half of his weakened skull in, but even missing half a face, he persists. Henrik takes another swing, this time connecting with his ribs. They snap loudly and the zombie howls in pain. 

Again and again, Henrik whacks him, until what used to be a humanoid creature resembles a broken pile of bones and rotting flesh. Straightening his lab coat, Henrik collects the few samples that he had been trying to get before Robbie had gone feral. It was strange; he had never acted  _ anything _ like that before unless he’d gone a little while without eating. Maybe it was the deterioration of his brain that caused it, or perhaps he was just hungrier than usual. 

Either way, it was a dent in his plans, but at least he’d gotten the samples that he wanted. Plus, he’s learned that his bones were also a lot weaker than they should be. Not a surprise, but still good information to have. 

He sat at the desk and recorded the notes. They hardly filled half a page, but that was okay. It was decent information and he already had ideas on how to improve AN7-1 so that the next person wouldn’t be turned into a living-dead zombie. Once he was done, he packed up his things and exited the room, leaving the still groaning mess of purple flesh behind him. 


	9. Chapter 9

There was a strange comfort in the stark white walls of the mindscape. Something about the simplicity in such a turbulent time was relaxing to Chase. Even though he could practically feel the anger rolling off of Jack in waves, the still air around them absorbed it before it could taint the relief lightening Chase’s shoulders. 

Jackie walked with them as well; a stoney expression masking whatever he was feeling underneath. His green eyes stay fixed on the back of Jack’s head, basically ignoring everything else around him. Chase found that he was able to stay more focused than usual, which seemed to be happening a bit more often these past few days. 

It was bizarre how he was feeling about everything the past two days. He found that he was a lot calmer than normal even though he should be panicking because their arch-nemesis had basically kidnapped two of their friends and was doing who knows what with them. They could be dead already for all they knew. Yet, while he cared, he found himself constantly drifting to wonder about more mundane things. It wasn’t clear if that was a good or bad thing.

After a few minutes of walking, Jack opens an unmarked door to reveal a room full of machinery. The most notable things, however, are the nine television screens showing nothing but static on the back wall. Those and the man with his head resting in his arms on top of a table. Next to him was a clear button that glowed unnaturally every few seconds.

The man wearily lifts his head, but says nothing. He’s obviously another ego judging by the fact that he looked exactly like them. Except for the fact that he looked like he had never seen daylight. He watches as they file one-by-one into the room. 

“Hello, Sean,” Jack greets him. He puffs his chest and approaches the table. Sean remains seated; only watching with sunken eyes as Jack rests his hands in front of him.

“Jack. What brings you here again so soon?” Sean questions, his voice as tired as he looked.

Jack scoffs, “Can’t see that with your fancy vision?”

Sean shakes his head. His eyes flicker over to Chase and Jackie, hovering over them for just a moment. “I only got actions with this, not thoughts.”

“I see…” Jack motions for Chase and Jackie to come forward. They obey. “Do you know why I’ve brought them here, Sean?”

He narrows his eyes, “No. Why would I?”

A flicker of a smirk passes over Jack’s face. “For your sake, I hope you don’t find out,” He chuckles darkly. Sean’s expression shifts as his imagination supplies him with possibilities. “I have a few questions for you. Answer them truthfully and you won’t have to learn.”

Sean swallows audibly, “Fine.”

“Good. First question: where are Antonio, Jameson, and Marvin?” Jack tightly squeezes Chase’s shoulder. 

Sean closes his eyes. Beneath their lids, they flicked back and forth like a cat watching a laser. After a few moments, he opens them. “Still in Brighton. I can’t tell exactly where,” He casts his gaze downwards, trying to avoid making eye contact. “Somewhere closer, no, farther away from the beach.”

“Which one?” Jack asks. 

“Farther.” 

Jack hums, satisfied with the answer. “ _ When  _ are they?”

Sean closes his eyes again, this time for much longer. He takes his time thinking or scanning or whatever it was he was doing. When he does open his eyes, he looks troubled. “I-I-” He stammers, “I can’t tell.”

Jack releases his grip on Chase’s shoulder and leans forward to grip Sean’s chin. “I don’t think that was a very truthful answer, now was it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sean weakly retorts, “I can’t tell when they are from just surroundings.”

“Not even a little bit. Not even a decade?” Jack half snarls. Sean shakes his head. Jack releases his chin and throws his hands up. “Unbelievable. It’s not even like I get to enjoy this. Oh well, I’ll see the aftermath at least.”

“What- what do you mean?” Sean’s voice shakes.Jack smirks, “I have a theory that I want to test.” He turns away from the tabel, clasping his hands behind his back. “If I’m not in the mindscape with you when you’re hurt, then I won’t feel the pain. There’s no guarantee that it’ll work, so you might get off with hardly a scratch. But if it does…” He turns back to face them. There’s no need to finish the sentence. Sean could figure it out on his own.

“That’s not going to work,” Sean counters. He stands, balancing himself with the table. “We’re connected in more than just this place,” He gestures around them.

“We’ll see about that. Jackie, Chase, wait a few minutes after I leave before starting. You know the plan,” Jack says.

Chase nods, “Yes, sir.” Jackie does the same as he sets a timer for five minutes.

Jack smiles at them and leaves the room. Sean exhales loudly and rests his head on the table. He mutters something under his breath that’s too quiet for them to hear.

The minutes pass slowly. The only sounds that fill the silence are the soft hum of the tv static and their own breathing. Chase’s feet begin to grow sore and his body grows stiff from standing still for so long, but he finds no need to move. He just stands there, waiting for the timer to go off. When it finally does, Sean jerks up. His eyes flick back and forth between Jackie and Chase.

Jackie doesn’t hesitate, he lashes his arm out, back-handing Sean across the face. A sharp sting appears in Chase’s left cheek, but he ignores it. Another slap goes across the other way and his right cheek burns as well. An anomaly for sure.

After shaking his hand out, Jackie gestures for Chase to hand him the switchblade Jack told him to store in his back pocket. Sean tenses at the sight of it, but makes no protest. Not yet at least. Jackie flips it open. He doesn’t waste any time in bringing it to his cheek and drawing a short line across his skin. Pain pricks at Chase’s cheek bone. At the same time, he notices a drop of blood rolling down Jackie’s cheek. He puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him and points to the cut that had appeared on his face. Jackie points to his cheek as well, noticing that he had one too.

Something told him that this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Why would a wound on someone else appear on them? It didn’t make sense. He made a mental note to inform Jack about it. Jackie sends Jack a text letting him know that they were done, and only moments later he appears in the room. He frowns as he notices their cuts. “Tsk, tsk, tsk…” He shakes his head at Sean. “See what you did?” He roughly spins Chase around and points to his cheek.

Guilt shines in his eyes and he angles his head down. His voice is hardly a whisper as he breathes out an apology.

Jack leans over the table, invading Sean’s personal space, “Now you know what will happen if you decide that you don’t want to tell the truth. I know how to tell. You can’t hide  _ anything _ from me. Do you understand?”

Sean nods.

“I said,” Jack yanks him up by his unruly hair, “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” He says, his voice monotonous and soft, “I understand.”

“Good,” Jack lets go of him. “Let’s go.” He spins on his heel and leads Chase and Jackie from the room.

Once they’ve exited, Jack asks them a question. “Did it hurt?”

“As if we were being hurt ourselves,” Jackie confirms.

Jack curses and raises a hand to his chin, “We’ll figure something out, but for now we’ll continue with this plan. If he refuses to say anything or lies, I’ll send one of you two in to deal with him. We’ll get those deviants back where they belong no matter the cost.” 


	10. Chapter 10

After a long night of tossing and turning, Anti dragged himself out of bed with the sunrise. It was a habit he had, or at least he thought so. Whenever he tried to sleep, not that it was often, he always woke with the sun. Whether or not it was a habit he had always had was a mystery to be solved. It wasn’t like he knew a whole lot about who he used to be anyway.

Not being able to remember even the most basic aspects of his previous life was more than annoying. He had no idea what foods he liked, what year he was born in, or even what his real name was. Sure, the watch had _said_ Antonio, but what if the watch wasn’t his? What if it was a present for someone else?

He pushes the depressing thoughts away. He’d thought them and gone through every single “What if…” scenario possible. No good would come from dwelling on those thoughts no. He retreats into bathroom that connects the room to the room that was given to Marvin. The thin walls allowed for every sound to pass through and he could hear the magician muttering to himself of the other side. It seemed like he wasn’t sleeping much either. He decided not to bother him.

Going through the motions of basic hygiene were a blur. Brushing his teeth and splashing some water onto his face were things that he hadn’t done in a long while. It wasn’t like he needed to do them. Although horrible at first, whatever drug Henrik had injected him with when he’d first appeared in the present was helpful. It kept him alive with a slit throat for one.

Hiding the wound was more than a pain. There was no way he could cover it with makeup if he could even get his hands on it, and stitching it together had proved useless a long time ago. He  had to resort to wearing a scarf wherever he went. At least it was winter.

After he finished in the bathroom, he entered his room and layed back down on the bed. He could still hear Marvin’s soft mutterings through the walls and half of him wanted to burst in there and tell him to stop. Whatever he was doing was driving him insane. The rational side of him restrained him, however, and he forced himself to lay back down. Marvin most likely had a reason to be chanting at six in the morning, and he wasn’t going to confront him about it. Although, he _was_ going to question it. A lot.

He lay on the bed for the better part of the next couple of hours. The world melted away and the only thing left was his attempts at remembering anything he could. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried this. While trapped by that doctor, he’d had enough opportunities to lie awake and focus on what he wanted. There was something different about this place as well, something familiar that he couldn’t put his finger on. Almost the exact opposite of how he was suddenly in Athlone, Ireland with no recollection of anything.

A knock sounds from the door, tearing him away from his thoughts. Sunlight streams through the half-shut blinds. Another knock comes and he tears himself off the comfortable bed. Grabbing his scarf and throwing it around his neck, he opens the door to reveal a slightly disheveled Marvin. His glasses were smudged and his hair stuck up in strange ways. “Come on,” He covers his mouth with his hand as he smothers a yawn. “Jameson’s waiting for us downstairs.” He mutters something to himself afterwards, but Anti doesn’t bother trying to hear it.

The man from the night before, Ben, meets them in the hall and leads them downstairs to a sparsely furnished common room. Anti takes note of each and every weapon he and everyone else are decked out with. It was curious that they were always armed to the teeth, but he didn’t spend too much effort on the question.

Jameson was sitting in an overstuffed lounge chair; his hands moving rapidly as he conversed with an unfamiliar graying woman. A swaddled baby sits in her arms and she rocks it slowly. His eyes light up as he sees them enter and he motions for them to come sit with him.

“ **There you two are! I was wondering what was taking you so long** ,” Jameson signs as he approaches them, “ **I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Lilly.** ”

Anti had given up trying to figure out how he understood sign language. It was strange that he would understand a language from his old life, but it was proving useful and therefore he wasn’t going to complain.

Before any of them could react, a man appears from nowhere and pins Jameson to the wall. The woman, Lilly, Anti presumed, let out a shriek and hugged the child closer to her chest. Jameson struggled against the man, but only ended up with an elbow shoved against his throat.

“Maz!” Lilly shouts, “What on Earth is this for?”

“Just doing what should have been done a long, long time ago,” He snarls. Jameson flails his arms, trying to speak, but can’t seem to coordinate them enough to form words. Maz grabs one of his hands and pins it to the wall, “Not so talkative now, huh? Got nothing to say when you’re being punished for your crimes?”

“What’s going on here?” Someone shouts. They push through the forming crowd to confront them. “Maz what are you doing to Jameson, and why are you doing it? Actually don’t answer that. I know the answer to both. Just let him go.”

Maz does as he’s told and releases Jameson from his hold. “He deserves it for what he’s done, Alex. Murderers should get what they deserve.”

“Dear God, Maz,” Red rolls her eyes, “We’re technically _all_ murderers here.”

“We don’t kill for no reason!” He snaps.

“ **I didn’t kill them, Maz** ,” Jameson signs shakily. “ **I swear to you. I wouldn’t hurt them.** ”

Maz throws his hands in the air, “Then who was it, huh? Who killed your happy-”

“Enough,” Alex cuts him off. “Everyone return to what you were doing before. Maz, we’re going to have a talk.” They lead him off as the crowd disperses.

Marvin glances at Anti, “What the fuck just happened?”

He just shakes his head, “N̛o ͟ide̡a.”

Jameson approaches them and motions for them to follow him. Marvin hesitates for a moment before following. He leads them to another, dustier bedroom. “ _Find a chair, and sit. I’d like to explain everything. There’s… quite a bit, and I suspect that you’ll have questions.”_

Marvin chuckles nervously, “Yeah no shit. What was that back there? And what did Red mean about you all being murderers?”

He takes a shaky breath, “ _This place here, it’s a home for a band of hit-men. We house, clothe, and feed everyone using the profits from jobs. It doubles as an orphanage that children are raised in. Don’t look at me like that, Marv. The kids aren’t trained until they’re sixteen and decide that they want to work as a hit-man. That’s more or less how my brother and I ended up here.”_

“So͟ you͢'͜re...̧ ̷an a̛s͝sassin̵?͞” Anti asks. That more or less answered his questions about why everyone here was armed like they were going to war.

“ _I used to be. After a few years I stopped and starting helping out with the orphanage section of the place. That’s where I met my wife.”_ A sad smile strikes across his face.

Anti blinks, “You̷r͡ ҉w̢ife. ͘I̕ ͠di͢d̵n'͠t ̨kno͡w ̵you͠ ͡w͜ere m͢a͞r̢ried͟.”

“ _I wouldn’t expect you to. I hardly speak of my family,”_ Jameson says.

“Alright,” Marvin says, turning to Anti, “Now, I’ve got a few questions for you, Antisepticeye.”

“J͟ust c͡al̴l͜ ̛me A͢nti͘, plea̧se.”

“How about no?” He snaps. “After so long under _your_ control, I think I have the freedom to say what I like.”

“Do͟ y̶o͝u̸ t̵hin͞k I w̶ant̢ed to̡ ̵do th͝at?” Anti retorts, “̸Do ͏you̧ ̶th͏i͢n͘k I w̸an͢te̛d to ͏ḩu̕r̷t a̡n͟y̧o̷n҉e?͝ I ҉w̨a͢s a pųp̡pe͘t͏ of ͡J͢a̧ck's ̵j̧u͝st ̡li̴ķe y͏ou̡ ͝were.͡ None ͜of ̧my a̵cti̢oņs ͝w̢ere m̸y ̷ow͘n͝ unt̶i͠l̷ h̸e ac̷ce̡d͡entally ̕freed͏ ̡me͘ l͡ast w̢e͏e̛k.

“What happened then?” Marvin asks, “What led you to becoming this… _monster?”_

Anti takes a deep breath. “Yo͞u͠ want̢ ̴t̨o̶ kn͠ow? Fi̴ne͟.͞

“W̢a̢k̕in̡g͡ ̧u͘p̕ ͟to a p̸la͢c͠e̶ ͏wh̛e҉r̛e ͞alm͘o͞st ̷ev͘e͡ryone h͟a͏s̛ ̨your҉ fa̶ce ̢is ja̷r͜ri̕ng̡.͞ ̷I͏t was̷ some̡th̷ing͏ ̷t̡ha̷t͝ I̸ aưt͜o̡m̡a̧t҉icall̛y ̡knew̨ was ̧wr̸o͘ng̴, bưt Į ̧h̸ad҉ not̡hing̸ t͠o̵ go o̕f̸f͡ of̵ t͞ha̛t҉ s̨how̴e͝d̶ ͟m͝e ͞wha̛t ͜was ͡ri̷g͘h̕t.͜ N̛o̧ ̧mem͝ories̸, no̧ namȩ,̛ ̛no ties ͢t҉o̸ ̡an͘yo̸ne͟. ͡Jus͏t͡ me, ̡t̶he͞ ̢c̴lo͏the͘s on ͜my b̡ąc̵k̨,̶ and ͘a p̸o̢c̸k͜et̷ w͏a̴t̡ch th͜at ͢I͟ wasn̕’t ̨su̶r҉e ̢ev͠e̸n ̵bȩlonge̢d ͞to̵ me҉.

“Then ͞b҉eing ͢t҉u̴rn͡e̵d͘ ͝i̷nt̛o̡ t̡hi̕s ̕cr͏ea̴ture̢ ̷by t͢h͠at ͞u҉n̨derqu͏a͘l̴ifie̷d͞ ̨man ̢wh̢o c̕all͜s h̶ims͠elf̵ ͟a d͞octor.͝ T҉r͟a̴pped͡ ̸i̷n͞ tha͜t͏ ro̴om,͘ s̨tra̶p̕pe͘d t̷o̸ ̨a͠ bed͏ as̸ ͘I ̧w͠as͜ fo͘r͏c͘eḑ t͏ǫ en͠du̢re͏ ho̶u͠r͡s o͜f͜ ͏p̛a̢i̧nfu͠l ̵‘expe͜r̕imentat͝i҉oņ’ ̸that̨ was͢ mo͜re st͢abbi͜ng ͏me ̡wi͝t͢h҉ ̷a̶ k͜nif̸e t̛h̕an sc͞ienc҉e. To ma͜ke m̕a҉t̛te͘r͝s̡ w͘or̴s͡e,̶ t͞h̛e ‘d̨oc̵t͠or’ b̡r̵ou͞g͝ht͝ ͟in̛ ̶J̴a̕c̵k somet͢i̸m̕es ̛ąs ̷we͟l͘l̕. Hi͟s t͞o̸rtu͞r͜ę ̴wa̕s̨ ҉far, fa̛r ̨w̕o̴r̶s̢e̢. ͡J̸ack͟ inv̢a̛ded̵ ̡m҉y̛ ͠m̕ind̕,̸ mol̡din͢g it̡ to fit̡ his i̴d͟ȩals. Aņd,͝ to add t̷h͢e͢ ͟c̨h̡err̴y̕ ̸on͘ t͝op͠, ̡I ̶was̸ ͢s̷t͟u̴f̕f̛ed͘ ͞in̴to wha҉t c҉ou͝l͠d̸ o̸n̕ly͡ b̢e ͢c̡a̵lled a͘ ͢c͝loset̨ and le̡ft͟ t͞h͏ere.

”U͘ņţi͘l̡ the̵ d̕a͢y ̧I t̵ri͢ed̡ ͝res̸ist͞ing͏.

͠”It ͡was̨ a ̶f͞ąil̴u͠r͏e ͠o͘f ͞a̧n̵ a̢t͠tem̡p͘t, on͠e̡ that ca̢u͞şed̸ me m͢o̴r͞e̡ p͢a͜i̴ņ ͏t͘h̶an̵ it̕ ͏w̧as wort̕h.̕ ͞My͞ ̶męt̶aphorica͞l҉ an̴d ph͜y͏s͠i̵cal ̛st͞r͟i͢ngs̢ we̸r͟e̷ t͘i͞gh̕te͟ne҉d͜, and to ͞sh̕o̷w͜ ̕m҉e ̨th̢at̸ ͝I͜ h̸ad ͜no ̕c͏o͝nt̴r̕ol, ̵Ja̸c͘k̷ ͏to͏ok me͘ on̸ a tr҉i̛p̶.͜ S̨ome̵one h̕a҉d͡ d͞is͏c͟over̸ed t͡h̛a͝t ͏t̴he ̸p̸ocke̕t҉ ͘watc͞h ̴I̕’d arrįv҉e͡d ̷wit̨h w͘a͝s ͜so҉m̢e ͟sort̛ ̕o͡f ͘ti͏m͡e-trav͟e̷l̴ ͢d̡e͞vi̴ce. Ja͢ck͏ usȩd t̨h͢is ̵t͝o ͢t͘ak͟e ̶u̷s ba̢c͢k ͏in time͝ and̷ commi͏t ̛an ̡act s̡o͢ ͡v̧iol͡ent t̕o sh̷o͘w̵ ̶me ͞who ̴w͏a̶s ̸r̡ea̕l͝ly̸ in ͘c̵ontr͢o͘l.͠”

“What did he make you do?” Marvin’s voice is hardly more than a whisper.

Anti pauses, suddenly nervous. He glances at Jameson who was looking at him expectantly and swallows. He avoids his eyes, begging that he wouldn’t hate him for this. “I-̷I͏.҉..” He stammers, “I wa͘s̨ ͏f̡o͞r̕c͏e̵d ̶t̛o̴ ͢kil͢l tw̨o̸ ͢peo̴pl͡e̶, a ̧mother͜ a̛n̨d̵ ̨h̨e͘r s͠ǫn, i̛n͜ fr̕ont ̧o͡f ̛th̸e fąt͢h͢er.̧”

Jameson gasps, a hand flying over his mouth and tears springing into his eyes. He stumbles to his feet and grabs a face down picture frame from the nightstand. “ _Was this them?”_ He hands him the frame. Three smiling faces stare back at him. Two of which he can clearly remember laying at his feet, dead in the pools of their own blood.

“Ye̷s,” The word hardly makes it from his mouth.

Jameson takes the picture back and sets it on the nightstand, “ _All this time… I thought that it was my brother who had killed them. But I was wrong… How could I be so wrong about that?”_

“Maybe…” Marvin says after a moment, “Maybe you weren’t wrong.”

“ _What do you mean?”_

“What was your brother’s name?”

“ _Antonio, or Anton as I liked to call him._ ”

“Isn’t that what Jack called Anti yesterday? Antonio?”

“Oh͟.̡..̧” Anti realizes what Marvin was trying to say.

 _Antonio._ The name on the stopwatch. _Antonio._ The name that Anti was called for months not knowing if it was really his. _Antonio._ Jameson’s brother that had betrayed him to kill his family.

“What if... “ Marvin looks between the two, preparing to say what was on all of their minds. “Anti and Antonio are the same person?”


	11. Chapter 11

Returning to the mindscape was never a pleasant experience. The disorientation and nausea was enough to want to keep away, but Jackie didn’t really have much of a choice. Whatever Jack was sending him back for, less than a day after he was here last, must be important. He hadn’t even known this place existed, and now he’d been here at least once a day for the past three days. It was almost funny in a way.

The room hadn’t changed a bit since he had been there the day before. Even Sean was in the same place. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes followed Jackie as he entered the room. Jackie came to a stop in front of him. “Jack has requested that you comply with his orders.”

Sean nods weakly, “What does he want?”

“The answer to the question that he asked yesterday. The one that you refused to answer,” Jackie says.

“Which one was that again?” He asks.

“When are they?”

Sean caves into himself a little, “Ah right. And if I don’t answer…” Jackie pulls the gun from his jacket and holds it to his head. Sean cringes. “G-got it. Got it. I’ll answer. Just, don’t shoot yourself. Please.”

“Good choice,” Jackie returns the weapon to its pocket. “Now, when are they?”

He thinks for a moment, “Either early 30s or late 20s. It’s hard to tell.”

Jackie reaches back into his pocket, “Figure it out then.”

The small action made Sean even more nervous. With a shaky nod, he closes his eyes. They’re closed for a long few moments, before snapping open. “I-I can’t-”

The gun returns to his temple, “Figure it-” He stops, suddenly realizing what he was doing. Sean suddenly looks so much smaller; paler and frailer than he’d looked before. His eyes were wide with fear and his hands shook. Jackie hears the clang of metal against the ground as the pistol drops from his hand.

What the hell was he doing?

“J-Jackie?” Sean whispers. He stands and makes his way around the table, leaning on it heavily as he walks. Jackie sinks to his knees, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. What was he doing? A comforting hand rests between his shoulder blades.

He _remembered_. He remembered what Jack had done to him, to everyone. Taking them under his absolute control. He remembered who the man in front of him was- no, is. He remembered his kindness and willingness to do anything to help people. He had created them from nothing, and now he was trapped inside his own mind.

Jackie tilts his head up to meet the sky blue eyes of his creator, “I’m so sorry…”

Sean shakes his head, “You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault.”

Jackie pushes himself to his weak legs. Panic grips his heart for a moment as he realizes the severity of the situation. “We have to get out of here,” He says, whipping around to face the door. “But how?”  


“No. You’ve got to get out. I’ll be okay,” Sean says. He leans against the table.

“I am _not_ leaving you behind,” Jackie insists. He grabs Sean’s hand and leads him to the door, “We either leave together, or not at all.” Thankfully, Sean doesn’t argue and follows close behind. He’s slow, but pushes himself to move as fast as he can. The halls are confusing, but Sean knows the way. After a while, he begins to lead Jackie through the maze, and they make it to the door in what seems to be under a half hour.

Jackie hesitates in front of the door, suddenly realizing that bringing Sean to the outside world wasn’t the best course of action. Jack would be there, and something told him that he was the reason that Sean was in here in the first place. Leading them to each other wouldn’t end well. And when Jack realizes that Jackie wasn’t under his control anymore- This just wasn’t going to be good for anyone.

Quickly forming a plan in his head, Jackie shoves the door open and pulls Sean close to him. The suction of the void threatens to tear them apart, but Jackie holds tight. Every pore in his body doubles in size then immediately contracts, his skin shriveling as if he was in the pool for too long. His stomach does flip-flops as they fall through the empty blackness.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a moment or so, they find themselves sprawled across the floor of Jackie’s bedroom. Sean takes a moment, squinting against the harsh daylight spilling through the open windows. Perched on a tree outside, a pigeon sings. He states at it with the fascination of a little boy. Jackie has to break him from his trance by placing a hand on his shoulder. He pokes his head out the door to check for any stray people. The coast should be clear. Jack was normally recording at this time of day, and Chase was normally on a walk.

He hurries Sean into the hall and leads him quietly down the stairs. Spending so long trapped in the mindscape seemed to have really messed with his sense of coordination, and he almost trips multiple times. They make it down the stairs safely, only to realize that they’d been being watched the whole time. Chase was sitting on the couch, a bag of chips in one hand and his mouth hanging open.

“Jackie,” Chase asks monotonously, “What are you doing?” There was something off about him. His eyes were _green _.__

He hesitates, “I-uh- figured he needed some exercise. Keep him cooped up for that long and we’ll never get anything out of him.”

Chase tilts his head to the side, “Did Jack tell you to do that?”

“I wasn’t aware he controlled me,” Jackie retorts with more force than he intended.

Without another word, Chase stands and rushes off to Jack’s recording room. Jackie mutters a curse under his breath and grabs Sean, pulling him towards his work room. If they could get there, then Jackie knew a way to quickly get them out of there. _If_ they could get there. He pushes the doubts from his mind. They would make it. It wasn’t far away. They _would_ make it. They had to.

Sean stumbles often, slowing them down more than Jackie would have liked. The house suddenly seemed much bigger than it had ever been. The hall to his work room stretched forever, fading into darkness at the end. The door to the room was still halfway through the hall, but with every step it seemed to grow farther and farther away. Jackie shook his head to clear his thoughts and suddenly the door was right in front of them. Yanking it open, he shoves Sean inside, quickly following behind.

A _thud_ sounds from the hallway as someone rams into the door. There’s an unintelligible shout followed by a thick silence. Jackie bends over, resting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Sean collapses into the chair at the desk, resting his head in his hands. Jackie stands back up and digs through a nearby cabinet.

A muffled whisper comes from behind him, “Thank you.”

Jackie looks over at him, “For what?”

“Saving me,” Sean says, “I don’t think I would have ever gotten out of there if it wasn’t for you.”

“I only did what was right,” Jackie throws an old, rusty device to the ground, uncovering exactly what he was looking for. “Aha!” He removes a blue, square-shaped box from the cabinet and scurries over to Sean. Another knock come from the door, but he ignores it.

“Jackie! Get out here right now!” Jack’s yell comes muffled through the door, flinching as it reminds him of an angry parent.

He turns the box over in his hands, searching for a small button on the side. “Put your hand on the box, Sean,” He instructs him.

“What’s it do?” He asks.

Jackie smirks, “It’s a bit of stolen magic from Marvin. It should take us to a safe place.”

“And where is that?”

His smile disappears as he shrugs, “I guess we’ll find out.” He jams his thumb onto the button. Less than a moment later, they find themselves in an unfamiliar living room. A familiar man drops his coffee mug at the sight.

“What the fuck…” Robin mutters.


	12. Chapter 12

The salty tang of the air was a reminder of just how close to the sea they were. It was hidden behind buildings, but the smell was just enough to bring Jameson back to his childhood. He and his friends would come and play up here on the roof when they weren’t allowed in the courtyard. By the half-deflated balls and ripped teddy bears scattered around, it was evident that nothing had changed since then. 

But he wasn’t up here to reminisce. The inside of the building had become too crowded, too full of memories he’d rather forget. That plus the bombshell Marvin had dropped on them yesterday- he didn’t want to be inside anymore.

He almost didn’t  _ want  _ to believe what Marvin had thought of. Anti was Anton? The creature that had terrorized him and his friends for years be his brother? The thought was almost laughable at first. But, somehow, it made sense. He’d bought the pocket watch for Antonio’s birthday. Then, he disappeared. He hadn’t seen him in  _ years _ before that horrible night. But if Anti and Anton were the same person, it explained why it had happened in the first place. 

Then there was the issue of how the hell they would confront Jack when they returned to their modern day. No one had brought it up yet, but the inevitability of it hung over their heads like a dark cloud. Jack was more powerful than all of them combined; it would be almost impossible to beat him if they didn’t know what they were doing. And that was exactly the kind of situation they were in. Anti knew him the best, but if he didn’t know what to do, then they really didn’t stand a chance.

A door opening breaks him from his thoughts. He turns to see Alex walking onto the roof, bundled in a warm parka and scarf. They smile as they near him, “There you are! Your friends were worried when no one could find you.”

“ _ Sorry. I needed to get away for a little bit. Too much happening at once, you know?”  _ It was a relief that he could use his telepathy with Alex. He knew sign well enough, but if his hands were preeoccupied- for example: stuffed in coat pockets to hide from the cold- it was hard to communicate.

“That’s understandable,” They move to stand next to him. “You want to talk about anything?”

“ _No,_ ” Jameson shakes his head. Then quickly adds, “ _But thanks.”_ He sits down, dangling his feet over the edge of the roof. 

Alex hesitates, “Well... if you need to talk. You know where to find me.” The sound of their retreating footsteps echos through the windy air, followed by the gentle sound of a door closing. He was left alone with his thoughts once again. 

He still couldn’t believe he was back here. After two years of believing that he would never see his friends or this place again, it was surreal to be standing on the rooftop of the building where he’d spent most of his life. This was where he’d broken his arm trying to climb a tree, where he learned how to communicate in sign language, where he’d met his wife. It was where his son was born, but not raised. It was the only place that he could think of where he truly felt at home. 

There was an oath that everyone took as they joined the ranks of the assassin team. It was long and boring, full of information that most never bothered to listen to. Jameson had sat through enough induction ceremonies, and even recited it himself, so he knew most of it. But there was one part that always stuck out to him: 

_ No matter what, my siblings in arms are more important than anything else. We fight for each other. We bleed for each other. We  _ die _ for each other.  _

It somehow reminded him of marriage vows, but instead of sickness and health, it was safety and danger. He’d once vowed to die for the people here, and he knew that to this day he would still uphold that promise. 

Children’s laughter drifts up from the ground below. A small group of kids that couldn’t be older than ten were having a snowball fight. One of them notices him and eagerly waves up. He waves back. Lilly watches them from a safe distance, making sure that no one gets hurt too badly. She too waves up at him as well. 

Somehow, their scrimmage reminds him of the water battle he had with the others back home only a couple weeks prior. Longing tugs at his heart as he thinks of the friends he left behind. There was no way of knowing if they were okay, or even alive. There was no telling what Jack would do with them. Would Chase be used as bait to lure them back? Would Jackie be held hostage and threatened until they returned? He didn’t know. And that scared him more than anything else.

All of the action halts as one of the younger children gets hit in the face rather hard. She’s a tiny thing, no older than eight. But instead of crying like most children would, she scoops up a chunk of ice and chucks it at her attacker with excellent aim. The ice hits him right in the face, leaving a scratch across his right eye. He falls to his knees and cries, clutching his eye. Lilly races up to him and ushers him back inside.

Before they can reach the door, an explosion shakes the building. Jameson clutches to the edge of the roof, hoping the force doesn’t send him spiraling downwards. Panicked cries fill the air and smoke rises from the opposite side of the building. He scrambles to his feet and races to the staircase. A dangerous choice, but anything else he could think of would most definitely  _ not  _ end well for him. This at least offered some sort of hope.

The stairwell was still relatively free of smoke, but that wouldn’t last for long. He decides not to take this for granted and races down the steps two at a time with only one thing going through his mind:  _ get to the kids _ . He could see the smaller ones, the babies, trapped in their room with no one to help them. There were only so many older children and they only had so many arms. And the sad reality was that many of the adults could care less about them, even though many of them had been a child in the facilities here themselves. 

He wasn’t going to be one of those people. He was not going to let any kids die. Not on his watch.

The halls were already filling with smoke when he reaches the nursery. The fire alarms had faded to a dull roar in the back of his mind. A teenage girl standing at the front of the children finishes partnering them together so they can easily escape. She notices Jameson approaching and breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Can you grab John?” She asks, “He’s the only one left and we don’t have enough arms to carry him. Should still be in his crib.” 

Without hesitating, Jameson nods and enters the nursery. It was just how he remembered it. Half destroyed toys scattered around the room. Faded yellow paint peeling off the walls from age. This looked like it was the only room that hadn’t been renovated recently. Maybe they just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

The boy is in his crib just like she said he would be. He was so small, and looked to be not even a year old. Jameson picks him up and cradles him, almost forgetting the dire situation for a moment. Thankfully, he’s asleep despite the blaring alarms crying out. Smoke was collecting faster by the second, his cue to get the hell out of there. 

Jameson dashes from the room into the hall, bending his knees and bowing his head to keep low. He tucks the boy’s face into his chest to try and filter the air for him. It most likely wouldn’t do too much, but it was better than nothing. He unfortunately had nothing to filter the air for himself. That was okay. It wouldn’t take too long for them to get out. He would be fine. 

There was a man at the end of the hallway, almost fifty feet away. His figure was blurry, almost impossible to make out. But he could tell one detail about him: a white jacket- a lab coat?- cascading down his shoulders. A blink and then he’s gone. Where had he gone? Did he need help? Jameson looks down at the sleeping baby in his arms. It wasn’t the time to worry about them. This child was his responsibility and he needed to get him out. 

“Jameson!” He spins around to see Red racing after him. She wears a scarf around the lower half of her face, blocking her nose and mouth. “What do you have there?”

He hands her the baby, seeing an opportunity, “ **Get him out. I think I saw someone back there. They might need help.** ”

She sighs, “I know there’s nothing I can do to stop you. Just… don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

“ **I’ll do my best,** ” He agrees and speeds off down the hall to where he saw the man. There’s no sign that he was ever there except for the door to the stairwell that was wide open. He must have gone down. Jameson steps into the heated stairwell. It was much hotter in here than it was in the rest of the building. Sweat drips from his face as he pushes through. He makes it about halfway down the first flight before rough hacking shakes his body and he’s forced to stop and brace himself against the wall. 

His eyelids felt heavy. He falls back and slides down against the wall. It wouldn’t hurt him too much to rest for a minute, right? Just for a moment, he tells himself, hardly noticing as the stairwell grows hotter. 

Someone’s bending down in front of him, but the headache spiking through his brain is making his vision blurry. They don’t stay for long, leaving almost immediately after he notices them. 

The warmth was cozy. This must be what it’s like to sit in the middle of a fireplace. 

He coughs again. Something splatters onto his hand, but he can’t be bothered to look. 

He was exhausted; his limbs felt as if there were weights attached to them. Sleep would help. That’s what his father used to say. Sleep would fix everything. Maybe getting a bit of sleep would help. Yes, he decides. That would be beneficial. He closes his eyes, letting the darkness wash over him. He would rest.

But just for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it folk! The (about? maybe?) halfway point! I have twelve more chapters planned, but knowing how I am that could change. But yay! I hope you all are enjoying this so far. I'm loving writing it.
> 
> Hope everyone has a great day!


	13. Chapter 13

Sean had forgotten just how beautiful the night sky was. Glittering stars shone around the pearly moon in a sea of inky black. He’d been fascinated by the stars as a kid, and now here he was as an adult, losing much needed sleep as he stared up at the sky. The twinkling lights of far away objects were mesmerising. After spending so long trapped inside his own mind, it was an absolute joy to be able to see natural beauty again. 

An itch annoys his left arm and he scratches at it, only to find that doing so irritates it even more. He lifts the sleeve of the borrowed tank-top, checking to see if there was some sort of bug  there. He finds nothing. Confused, he fixes his sleeve and tries to ignore the itch by returning his attention to the sky. The irritation persists, however, and he itches his arm furiously, hissing in pain when that only makes it worse. 

The itch spreads, covering his entire arm like a swarm of wasps. It spreads over his neck and down his chest, to his other arm and legs until his entire body feels like it’s been covered in itching powder. Except it’s not just an itch anymore. It  _ burns. _

His entire body felt as if it was in flames. Searing pain sweeps through him, sending him to his knees as he unwillingly cries out. His arms wrap around himself, tearing at his skin, in an attempt to free himself from the invisible force torturing him. His mind spins as he tries to wrap his head around what was happening. Was this a side effect of the teleportation device Jackie had used? 

Suddenly, something in him snaps, as if a heart string had been cut. Another wave of pain rolls through him and he cries out. He felt empty, a strange but familiar feeling like something had been taken from him. He was sure of it. He had to find what he’d lost. He had to escape this torture. 

He’s only half conscious when someone bursts into the room. Dizzy with pain and barely awake, he can hardly make out what they’re asking him. He feels his mouth move to form an answer, but his brain doesn’t process his own words. Then, he’s moving. They’re moving him somewhere and he doesn’t know where he is anymore. Nothing is familiar. 

He was trapped again, wasn’t he?

He thrashes against their grip, but either he’s too weak or they’re too strong, so their grip doesn’t even loosen. Cold surrounds his body as they finally let him fall, but it does nothing to soothe the flames burning his skin. Through blurry vision, he can just make out blisters and reddened skin covering his arms and legs. He curls around himself, crying out as emptiness consumes him again. Why was this a familiar feeling? Why did he know this?

Then, he remembers.

_ A headache split through his skull had been paining him for what seemed to be an hour. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt in his life. Nothing was helping it either. Not the three pills he had taken, not a warm shower, not even the herbal remedy that his mother had offered did anything to help. But that wasn’t the only thing that was off. _

_ There was also the metaphorical- or maybe it was physical- hole just below his heart that felt as if something had been ripped from his chest. Maybe it was a side effect of the migraine currently tearing his brain in half. _

_ One of his siblings was sitting next to him; their hand rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. Through the immeasurable pain, it was hard to remember who it was.  _

_ Slowly, the pain ebbs away, leaving him more than confused on how he got into his bed. Buzzing from his phone spikes the headache, so he fumbles around for a minute to find it. The ID shows a familiar name and he hits the green answer button. _

_ “Jack,” he says, wincing as the pain digs through his skull, “I’m recovering from the worst headache of my entire life. What could you possibly want?” _

_ Jack bites the inside of his cheek. “We need to talk.” _

Cold water falling on Sean’s head breaks him from the memory. Most of the burning pain had subsided leaving him disoriented and confused. He blinks as he takes in his surroundings, not fully remembering how he had gotten here. He was sitting in a bathtub filled with freezing water. 

Jack hovers over him with a bucket in his hands, his clothes as soaked as Sean felt. He scrambles backwards, trying to get as much distance between him and his captor as possible.

“Hey, hey…” He says gently, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Sean spits with the little force as he can muster. It’s weaker than he wanted, but the message seemed to get across as wanted.

“I’m not lying to you. I promise. I- Oh.” Jack bites the inside of his cheek. “You think I’m  _ Jack _ don’t you?”

He relaxes slightly, feeling like an idiot. Of course. He wasn’t Jack. “Jackie?” He murmurs cautiously.

Jackie nods. “That’s me. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures him. “I-”

“I’ve got a sweatshirt that should work and…” A familiar face bursts into the room holding a bundle of clothes.  _ Robin _ . He thinks to himself, remembering more and more of what had happened the day before. “Oh good, you’re acting normal again.” Robin sighs with relief.

Sean tilts his head to the side. “What happened?”

“You don’t know either?” Jackie asks, scrunching his face.

“All I know is that I was looking up at the sky, and suddenly I felt as if my entire body was on fire,” Sean explains.

“That  _ would  _ explain why you were saying stuff about burning,” Robin mutters. 

“Do you know what could have caused it?” Jackie asks.

Sean shakes his head. “No, I- wait.” Panic grips his heart with it’s cold, deadly hand. The emptiness. Last time that had happened- His hands fly into his wet hair, gripping it tightly. He had an idea, but he hoped to God that it wasn’t what happened. 

His eyes fly shut, transporting himself to the memory-space. It was much like the mindscape, but instead of functioning as just a brain, the memory-space was specifically for memories. At least, that’s all he’d seen of it since he’d obtained it after pressing that damn button. In front of him float nine objects, each carved with a different symbol. Most are in good condition with a few scratches here and there. But two are basically demolished. 

Ignoring the one he knew was already defaced, he brushes his fingertips along the scarred surface of a pocket watch. It was hot to the touch and he pulls his hand away almost immediately, but the vision still fills his eyes.

_ Flames surrounds him. Smoke drifts into his lungs with nothing to protect them. He’s tired- no, exhausted. He closes his eyes to rest for a moment. They don’t open. _

Gasping, Sean snaps his own eyes open and leans against the tile wall behind the tub. No. No. Not him. He’d never even gotten the chance to meet him. He couldn’t be dead. He just  _ couldn’t. _

“Sean!” Jackie grabs him and hauls him out of the tub to move him back into the bedroom.

Still in shock, Sean can do nothing but mechanically slip into Robin’s dry clothes as he hands them to him. They’re saying things to him, but they may as well be speaking German for as well as he can understand them. 

Jackie sits him on the bed. “Hey,” he says, “Talk to us, Sean. You’re really scaring us.”

He takes a shaky breath. “Jameson… Jameson is dead.”


	14. Chapter 14

The cold sidewalk was digging into Marvin’s knees, but, at the moment, he could care less. Jameson was  _ dead _ . Firefighters had recovered his burned body from a stairwell, then laid him on the sidewalk so they didn’t have to deal with the body. It was a hideous sight, but for some reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wasn’t the only one who had died either. A teenage boy, an elderly woman, and two middle aged men were the other fatalities. That he knew of at least.

Anti had stalked away to who knows where to sulk after they had carried Jameson’s body out. He wasn’t anywhere in sight, but at least Marvin knew that he was safe. Honestly, Marvin couldn’t blame him for turning away. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure what was keeping him here. 

The guy that had beat Jameson up yesterday (Max? Maz?) stands behind him. He shook his head. “He was a good man. Better than most of us, that’s for sure,” He says, his voice trembling.

“Yeah…” Marvin murmurs. The guy turns away to go somewhere else. Alex soon takes his place.

“You and Antonio are welcome to stay with up as long as you’d like,” they say. 

Marvin offers him a weak smile. “Thank you. I’ll have to speak with him, but I think we’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“If that’s what you wish.” There’s a pause as they shift awkwardly on their feet. Obviously, there was something else they wanted to say. “I- um- Jameson told me the truth about where you two came from.”

Marvin blinks rapidly. “He did?” Why hadn’t he heard about this?

“He didn’t tell you? Interesting…” Alex frowns. They flick a hand dismissively. “Anyhow, I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. But…” They kneel down next to Marvin. “I think maybe I do believe him.”

“What did he tell you?” He asks, shrugging off the fact that Jameson had neglected to tell them this. He couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at a dead man.

Alex thinks for a moment. “Where you came from.  _ When _ you came from. He talked about what you’d been through as well. That was the part that seemed far fetched. That and the time travel,” They say, sitting back and leaning on their hands.

“Huh… And you’re starting to believe him?” Marvin asks. 

“I saw how you grabbed Rachel without using your hands,” They say. “He did say something about you being a magician. That and the bloody scarf that Antonio is always wearing. I knew something was up, but figured it rude to ask.”

“That-”

“Mr. Engle!” A young man races up to them. 

Alex scrambles to his feet to meet him. “What? What is it, Joseph?” The boy falls into their chest, almost sending them crashing down. But Alex holds their ground and regains their balance. Marvin turns away from the conversation and back towards Jameson. He covers his body with the white tarp provided. He couldn’t look at his deformed face anymore. He was so still.

“Marvin?” Alex approaches him with the boy. “He’s got something for you.” He produces a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket and hands it to Marvin. “Tell him where you got it.”

The boy clears his throat. “B-before he fire, I ran into a German outside the building while on patrol. He asked me if I knew Jameson or his friends. When I-I told him that I didn’t really, he handed me this and…”

Marvin stopped listening to his rambling, too caught up in his racing thoughts to follow. He holds the paper up to examine it. It’s thick, almost like a business card. He flips the card over. Immediately, his fears were confirmed. Familiar fancy looping cursive scrawls across the off white paper, searing into his brain.

_ You know where to find us.  _

_ H.S. _

Marvin snaps his head up. “Do you know where Antonio went?” He had to find him. Now.

“Not sure where he ended up, but I saw him heading towards the beach,” Alex answers.

Thanking him, Marvin speeds off down the road, clutching the note tightly. He found them. Henrik had found them. How? How had he found them? He’d somehow tracked them to this  _ exact _ location at this exact time. It didn’t make sense. He’d specifically put up warding spells the first night they were there to keep them away. They must not have worked. How did the spells not work?

Finding his way to the beach wasn’t exactly all that hard, and finding Anti after that was even easier. He was sitting at the water, letting the waves lap around his legs. Marvin approached him slowly. He still didn’t know how Anti reacted to things like being surprised. Originally, he would have thought he would lash out, but he’d thankfully been calmer than expected. The magician sat himself down next to the glitch. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. The sense of urgency Marvin had felt only a few minutes before was fading. If Henrik found them that easily, he could surely do it again. Rushing wouldn’t even delay him.

In the end, it was Anti that spoke first. His voice was softer than normal; still grating to the ears, but softer. “ What ͝a͢re y̡oư do̵ing̵ he͜re?”

“I-um-” He clears his throat. “I learned something I figured you’d want to know.” He pulls the card from his pocket and hands it to him. 

Anti quickly reads it, then throws it to the wind. “Of cour̷se̕ it was͠ h͟įm̢. I͞ ̵sh̶ould̕ ̨ha̶v͞e͟ fig̵ured ̶a͞s ̸m͠uch,” He grumbles.

A wave crashes over Marvin’s legs, sending a cold shiver up his spine. “I wonder how he managed to find us,” he whispers.

“Idiot p̷rob̴a͞bly ̛sea͘r̕c͏h͢ed ͟thrǫug͡h ͞th͝e̷ min̷d̵sca̶pe for͝ m̕emori͡es.͠ O͟r Jack ̢has so̧m̨e ķind͘ ͠o͟f̡ ̵tech o͢r ̡p̛ower͞ o̡r ̛som͢e͡thi̷n̕g we'̸r̡e no͘t a͢ware̢ ͢o̸f,” Anti says, venom lacing each and every word. “I ͝can̴'t͠ ̕bel̕i͏evę i̸t,” He says as he chucks a rock into the ocean. ̸A͏s͟ soon̢ ͡as҉ I g̢et͞ ̸a҉ ̡singl͜e p͏ar͜t o̶f m͜y̨ pa̸s҉t͜ ba̷c͏k̢, ̛it'͢s̷ ̨r҉ipp̕ed͘ ͘aw͡ay̵ fro̕m me̕.

Marvin doesn’t know how to respond to that. He hadn’t even thought about how Anti was feeling. “I’m sorry. I should gone back in to look for him.” Marvin hangs his head. “Maybe I could have saved him.”

“Mayb̧e..̶.̨” Anti stands, remaining silent for a moment. “Come on̨.͏ We̷'̡ve̕ ģơt̸ ͘pl͏a͟ces to be͏.”

“Where?” He stands as well.

Anti takes his hand in his cold grip, “Int͜o͘ t̷h̴e̴ ͏minds̶ca̧pe͢. I ̨be͘t ͟we̸ ͡c̨a͟n̡ ͜fin͘d̵ ̧so͞me̶ ͘a̴ns̢wer͟s͝ th̸ere.͞”

Another wave crashes around Marvin’s feet. “I guess I can only trust you, huh?” 

“Yoų'͠ve̛ g͢o͏ţ n̴o ̨ch̢oi͞c͢e͘.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Just wanted to let you all know that I am going out of town tomorrow and won't be back until Monday evening. Because of this I won't be able to upload or write until then. Chapters should resume next Thursday, or the Monday after that. 
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who's been reading this and commenting. Each comment completely makes my day, and special shout out to BiZaRePistachio for their theories and in depth comments that I only dreamed of having when I started writing this series. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying.

The sound of a knock at the door breaks Jack away from his computer. Annoyed at the interruption, he spins around to open the door. Standing in the hall is a soot covered Henrik who is failing to get the dirt out from his mussed hair. “You’re back late,” Jack states plainly, folding his arms over his chest. He gestures for him to come in, closing the door behind him.

Henrik enters his recording room, trailing a path of dirt on the carpet. “My apologies. Zis zing is more trouplezome zan I vould like.” He pulls the pocket watch from his coat and gently tosses it onto the desk.

Jack sighs. “Did you at least get one of them?” He asks, hopeful that something would go right for once. At first, he specifically wanted Anti back, but at this point he would settle for any. They could then be used as bargaining chips with the other renegades. 

“No,” He mutters, face falling to stare at his shoes. “I am sorry. Zee fire vould have killed me if I stayed any longer.”

“You’re kidding?” He groans, knowing very well that he was not. With a huff, he falls backward into his chair. “Do you at least know what happened to them or where they are now?”

Henrik thinks for a moment. “I do not know vhere 207 and Marvin have disappeared to, but I assume that Jameson is dead. I left a note zat should get to zem and lead zem right to us.”

Lowing his head onto the desk, he groans again. Things were not going well. First having Jackie help Sean escape to now losing Anti and Marvin with only a hope that they would return. It was such a mess. Plus, now Jameson was  _ dead.  _ Henrik needed to be more careful when playing with fire. A comforting hand rests itself between his shoulder blades, thumbs softly rubbing small circles. 

“It vill be okay in zee end,” Henrik murmurs. “Vee vill get zem and bring them back under your control.”

“Thanks,” He says, voice muffled through his arms.

“Come now,” Henrik muses, tugging gently on his arm to bring him up. “Let us relax for a moment. You are vorrying yourself to death. It vill vork out in zee end. It alvays does.”

“I know, I know. Just, can you tell Chase to come here?” He requests. “I want to talk with him for a moment.” Henrik, ever obedient, gives a curt nod, and leaves the room. 

Jack wasn’t sure how he’d gotten lucky enough that Henrik was on his side no matter what. If recent events had taught him anything, it was that all of the other egos were certainly against him when not under his control. Somehow, Henrik was different. It wasn’t just that he was loyal to Jack either. He seemed different from the other egos. As clever and cunning as Jack was, but also the only one who acted like a real human. The others knew what they were and that drove them to be less than they would be if they were truly human. It had been a cause of hopelessness for some of them at times, but most of the time they took it in stride. That was what really made him angry.

Henrik was emotionally strong, he always had been, even facing the darkest times. When they had been trapped in the mindscape by Anti and things had started to go horribly wrong, he saw the positive side of everything. It wasn’t until right before they escaped that he started to crack. He also was never as distraught as Chase over his divorce, even though his own situation was much worse. Jack scowled at just the thought of the useless ego.

By far, Chase was the weakest link out of all the egos. He couldn’t take criticism without crying, couldn’t get through a week without a nightmare, and was drunk more often than most single Irishmen. He was a disgrace to the rest of them and it was painfully obvious that Jack had nothing to do with his creation. 

Another knock comes from the door and it opens to reveal Henrik and the green-eyed failure. Jack motions for them to come in. Chase moves stiffly, still very much being puppeted like a ragdoll. With a wave of his hand, the spell comes completely undone and he is in full control for the first time in his short life. 

“Huh? Wha-” Chase stammers, not used to the feeling of total freedom. He stumbles forward, unintentionally falling before Jack’s feet. Henrik gives Jack a quizzical look, but says nothing. 

“Henrik,” Jack starts as he turns to the doctor. “You have a new test subject. And  _ we… _ ” He sneers down at Chase. “Have a hostage.”

Chase scrambles backward, fear consuming his pitiful blue eyes. “What? Hostage? Jack, wh-what are you talking about? Is Anti in control of you again?” 

He almost laughed. How dumb was he? “What am I talking about?” Jack shakes his head at the sorry sight. “I’m talking about your friends who have defied me and somehow managed to escape. I’m talking about getting them back the only way I can. Starting with the fool who escaped yesterday.”

“I’ve had nothing to do with any of this!” Chase blanches, white as a sheet. “I’ve been on your side this whole time! You know that. Henrik, tell him! Henrik?” He turns to Henrik for support, but finds none from the friend he thought he had. The doctor turns his nose up at him. “Wh-why me then? Why not Hen?”

“Vill you shut up for one second?” Henrik pinches the bridge of his nose. “Complaining vill only make sings vorse for you in zee end.” He turns to Jack. “Vat do you vant me to do vith him?”

“Mess him up a little, but not too much. Not yet at least,” he answers. “We want our hero to see exactly what he’s caused to happen, and what will happen if he doesn’t comply with us.” He dismisses them with a flick of his wrist. Henrik drags Chase from the room as he begs for kindness. But he wouldn’t find any. Not here. 

This was war now, and nothing would stop Jack from winning. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!!!

Chase wasn’t sure how long he’d been locked in this tiny, cell-like closet. He couldn’t see an inch in front of him, and it felt as if the darkness was seeping into his very soul. There was no sound either. Nothing but his roaring heartbeat and soft breaths filled the thick air. It must be soundproofed well. 

He thought he’d known Henrik, the doctor who had saved his life many times before, but it seemed as if not even he was to be trusted anymore. The doctor had followed Jack’s orders to  _ hurt _ him without question. And Jack too. What had happened to the man who cared about the people he’d created? Did he even even exist, or was that all just an act?

Time didn’t hold any meaning anymore. Henrik had stripped him of any sort of electronics before strapping him to the table for his sick experiments. If they could even be called that. He’d been stuck on that table for God knows how long as the doctor poked and prodded him with needles and other sharp objects he didn’t care to identify. the

The doctor had done just as Jack told him. His face was scraped and bruised, and more injuries littered the rest of his body. He hadn’t been given anything for pain either, even when Henrik had basically cut his thigh open. Even now, what must be hours later, his body still sang in pain.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was truly alone. He had no allies here anymore. He couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Jackie, Marvin, and Jameson had all escaped  wrath. Although, if what Jack said was true, he’d lure them back by showing them Chase’s pain.

He didn’t blame them for leaving. He would have taken the opportunity if he had known just what kind of grave he was digging himself. But Jackie had left him behind, not even  _ trying _ to help him as he ran off. That cut deeper than the slashes Henrik had given him. 

Did Jackie even care about him? Was he worrying about him now? Probably not. It was unlikely anyone was. He’d always been just the cannon fodder for the rest of them. The target of more pain than most. He was just a plaything for Anti to mess with, or, judging by his current circumstance, bait for a trap laid to exploit Jackie’s heroic side.

But as much as he was angry at the hero for leaving him behind, he hoped he didn’t fall for the trap Jack was laying. They might not spare him a second thought, but at least he cared about  _ them. _

Chase lifts his head as light spills into the dark room. Silhouetted in the doorway is Henrik; his face was void of emotion as he yanks Chase to his feet by his shirt collar and drags him from the prison. Chase sputters in confusion, “Wh-where are you taking me?” No response. Henrik keeps his head straight ahead, ignoring the question. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He insists. “Where the hell are we going now?”

This at least gets the doctor to groan. “Vhy must you be so annoying?” He complains, “Can you not even fucking shut up for one second?” 

Chase bites his lip, unable to find a witty response. What had happened to the kind, caring person he’d once known? 

A pang of fear races through his heart as he remembers the injection Henrik had given him not long ago. What the hell had that been? A painful lump rises in his throat. “What have you done to me? What was that drug you gave that ‘healed’ me?”

In one swift, sudden movement, Henrik slams him against the wall, causing his head to knock against it. Stars dance across his vision and his head lolls to the side. “I said,” Henrik growls menacingly, “Shut up. Shut up.  _ Shut up.  _ Vhy can you not listen to orders?” Not allowing him to recover, Henrik drags Chase into the hall, down the stairs, and into the recording room. The blinds were drawn shut so he was unable to discern the time of day. Like always, Jack sat in his chair as he set up a discord call with someone. Henrik held Chase out of sight, his grip like shackles around his wrists.

Neither of them offered any sort of explanation for anything that was happening. Jack basically ignored his existence, and Henrik only paid attention to him when he tried to struggle, although he gave up rather quickly because of the pain flaring from the cuts and bruises. 

The ringing from the computer slices through Chase’s head. After so long without noise, the annoying sound was giving him a headache. Finally, it stops as the person on the other end picks up. Robin’s face appears on the other end, looking rather confused. 

“Jack?” He asks, yawning, “What’s up?”

“Hello, Robin,” Jack’s voice is too cheerful, too fake. Robin either doesn’t notice, or does a good job of hiding that he knows. “I’d like to speak to Jackie.”

His eyes widen in shock for a split second. “Jackie’s not here. Why… why would he be?” Robin’s voice wavers slightly. He was  _ not _ a good liar apparently. 

“Don’t lie to me, please.” Jack shakes his head. “I’m not sure what he told you, but I promise you, whatever it is, it isn’t true. Anti corrupted him and caused him and a few of the others to run away. He made them believe that  _ I  _ am the enemy.”

_ Liar!  _ Chase wants to shout, but finds that his mouth doesn’t want to cooperate. He tries calling out again, but gets the same results. 

“Please, Robin,” Jack begs. “I just want to talk to him. Alone if possible.”

“Why should I believe you?” Robin challenges. “How do I know that you aren’t Anti in disguise.”

“Because he can’t use technology without it going haywire. If I was truly him, you’d be seeing a sea of glitches instead of my face.”

“I don’t know… Even if you are Jack. How do I know that  _ you  _ aren’t the one lying to me?”

Jack’s eyes darken. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret, Robin.

“And what would that be? Are you going to give me to Henrik to be another one of his sick experiments? Or trap me inside my own head?” 

“I’ve honored your request to keep you out of this mess of my creation, but I will not hesitate to bring you into it. I can figure out how to control you just as easily as I control the others. You will become another one of my growing collection of puppets. So, may I deliver my message, or should I make you my messenger?”

Robin bites his tongue. “Fine, I’ll get him.” he mumbles harshly and leaves the room. 

Jack sits back in his chair, a smug grin decorating his face. Tears well up in the corners of Chase’s eyes.  _ You bastard! _ He tries to yell.  _ You son of a bitch! _ It was a trap. Plain and simple. If Jackie came back to save him, he would surely be recaptured and remade into one of Jack’s flesh puppets. And so would Chase. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. He didn’t want to be a puppet, especially if he didn’t know he was one. At least when he was with Stacy he  _ knew _ she was a control freak.

A few minutes pass before Jackie enters the room, a scowl on his face and hate in his eyes. “What the hell do you want, Jack? And why are you threatening Robin?”

“Well that’s not a very warm welcome,” Jack fake pouts.

“Yeah, whatever. Cut to the chase, what do you want?”

“We want you to come home, Jackie. This is all just a big misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up. I promise, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Come home?” Jackie laughs bitterly. “Why? So I can dance on your strings again? So you can push me around and exploit me? No way.”

Jack sighs. “I didn’t want to do this, but it seems that I have to.” He motions to Henrik who shoves Chase into the center of the room. Jack catches him and yanks his head towards the camera by his hair. 

Jackie gasps in horror. “Chase?” He whispers. “No… No, you didn’t.” 

“Oh, but I did. You see, this is one way you can fix this.” 

Jackie tightens his jaw. “And what would that be?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Come back. Come back with Sean and I will let him go. If you don’t, well, you’ll be getting a much worse call very soon. See you soon.” Jack leans over the computer and ends the call, cutting off whatever Jackie was trying to say. He releases Chase and lets him fall to the ground in a pathetic heap. 

“Make him comfortable in the room, Henrik. I have a feeling we’re going to be having guests soon.”


	17. Chapter 17

Jackie had been pacing for over an hour, drifting back and forth between two implausible decisions. Did he return to Jack to try and save Chase, or stay in Sweden and protect Sean and Robin. Going back was obviously a trap, but leaving Chase alone at their mercy wasn’t something he was too keen on either. And if he did go, there was no way in hell he’d be bringing Sean with him. Jack would be a fool to think so. Maybe he knew that. It was impossible to be sure.

“Take a deep breath, Jackie,” Robin advises. He’s been sitting on the couch watching him pace for the better part of the hour. He’d been trying to get him to stay, knowing that going back would only result in them losing him as well. Jackie knew he was right. Sean would say the same thing, or probably insist that Jackie complied with the demand to take him back. But, currently, he was asleep and didn’t even know about the situation at hand. They wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

It was a hopeless choice. No decision was better than the other. “Screw it,” he says finally, throwing his hands up. “I can’t just leave Chase there without knowing what they’re doing to him. I’m going to go.”

“Go where?”

Jackie’s throat dries as he sees Sean standing in the doorway. The sweatshirt Robin had lent him was much too big for his frail frame, drowning him in a sea of fabric. It made him look so much smaller, so much more helpless. He sighed. There was no use lying to him. “Jack’s hurt Chase.” Jackie makes a mental note of how Sean flinches at the mention of Jack’s name. He probably should refrain from using it. “I have to go back and at least try to help him.”

Slowly, Sean nods, understanding that he wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I guess he probably wants me as well.”

“Yes,” Jackie confirms. “He does. But I’m not going to let you come with me. You’re staying here, where it’s safe.”

Sean scoffs. “Is anywhere really safe anymore? I don’t want to go back there either, but to save you and the others, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not letting you come with me.” With that, he enters the guest room Robin lent them. The blue teleportation box sits atop the nightstand. He picks it up and rolls it over in his hands, hesitant to push the button.

“Did you see him? Chase, I mean.”

Jackie turns around at Sean’s voice, slightly annoyed. He needed to leave if he wanted to have even a small chance of rescuing Chase. “Yeah, why?”

Sean leans against the doorway. “Did you happen to notice what color his eyes were?”

“Blue? I guess. I didn’t really pay attention to his eyes.”

“That bastard… He really is cruel isn’t he.” Sean mutters, reaching up to stroke his beard.

“I mean, yeah he is, but what does eye color have to do with anything?” Jackie asks, genuinely confused.

“When he’s controlling someone, their eyes turn green.” He explains. “If Chase’s eyes were blue, that means that he wasn’t under his control. He would have felt everything Jack didn’t want him to feel before`. Pain, loneliness, betrayal…”

In his mind, he sees Chase, silently begging for help he doesn’t think he deserves. “I need to go, Sean.”

He nods. “Of course you do. Be careful, please.”

“I will.” Squeezing his free hand into a tight fist, he presses the button.

Instantly, he finds himself back in his workroom. Stumbling on his feet, he gets his bearings. The door is wide open, inviting him to rush out and be found, but he finds that he doesn’t want to move. He tucks the teleportation cube into his back pocket, knowing that he’ll want it when he finds Chase. His fingers itch to grab a stun blaster from the desk next to him, but even after all their betrayal, he can’t find it in himself to want to hurt Jack and Henrik.

Slowly, he inches into the hallway. He wasn’t sure where they were keeping him, but he would tear the house apart to find him if need be. It’s uncharacteristically quiet. He was used to the commotion of their everyday lives when they had so many people running around the house. Stray sparks from a spell Marvin was practicing would sometimes set a curtain alight, or Chase would try to film a stunt for Bro Average and end up shattering a lamp. Both had happened multiple times, and no amount of fireproof spells or unbreakable glass would erase the memories made those days.

He creeps up the stairs, careful of the one known to creak constantly. First, he checked the bedrooms. Locked, although he wasn’t sure what else he expected. They weren’t going to be left wide open. Not like the door to Henrik’s office was.

That raised an alarm in his mind. That door was never left open like that. Even if Henrik was in the room, it remained shut and usually locked. Every bit of common sense he had was arguing against going into the room, but instead of listening to reason, he goes anyway.

Unlike the rest of the house, there was a soft noise coming from the room. It took a moment for Jackie to realize what it was. Strapped to the operating table was Chase. Quiet sobs rack his body and Jackie almost feels like crying himself. He covers Chase’s mouth and raises a finger to his lips to shush him. Chase’s eyes widen as he sees Jackie. He shakes his head violently. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he promises quietly. Chase stops shaking, but tears continue to fall down his cheeks.

The straps are easy enough to undo, but actually getting Chase to his feet is a problem. His legs are weak and he can hardly stand on his own. Jackie reaches back to grab the cube, but Chase grabs his hand to stop him. “You shouldn’t have come, Jackie,” he whispers hauntingly.

He tries to snatch his hand from his grip, but it’s surprisingly strong. “Did you really expect me to just leave you here? No way was I going to let that happen.”

Chase just shakes his head again. “You shouldn’t have come,” he sobs. Suddenly, he cries out and doubles over, letting go of Jackie’s hand.

Jackie dives to the ground next to him. “Chase!” Damn quiet. Damn being subtle. He needed to get them out of there and fast. But when Chase raises his head to meet Jackie’s eyes, he knows it’s too late. Emeralds shine back at him, boring into his skull. “No…” he whispers. “No, no, no!” Someone grabs his arms and pins them behind his back. He struggles against their grip but it’s as tight as iron.

“Look what we’ve got here. Apparently, it isn’t so hard to defeat the mighty Jackieboy Man.” Jack appears in front of him. It must be Henrik holding him down then since Chase was still heaped on the ground. Since when was he so strong?

“Jack,” he spits venomously. “We made a deal. Let him go.”

“I would, but…” He leans down in front of him. “You didn’t fulfill your end.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“You were supposed to bring me something else. Someone else.” Jack shakes his head. “Shame. I was looking forward to having you on my side again.”

“Vat are vee doing vith him?” Henrik’s breath is disgustingly hot against his neck. Jackie leans as far away as he’s allowed.

“It’s no use torturing poor Chase anymore. Let’s give him the special treatment. Take him to the mindscape. I trust you know where to leave him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Chase, you help Henrik escort Jackie to his new home.”

Chase picks himself off the floor, moving stiffly like a robot. He takes hold of his right arm while Henrik takes his left. The next thing he knows, they’re falling through nothing and the sickening feeling of weightlessness makes him want to vomit. After what feels like hours, they blink into the blinding whiteness of the mindscape. Jackie tries to struggle, but nothing seems to bother them. Chase doesn’t even blink when he tries insulting one of his children.

They haul him through the seemingly endless maze in a path he can’t follow. The whispers of whatever lay behind the doors tease him. He gives up trying to escape. He’d failed. He’d failed and now they were going to subject him to the same fate that had befallen Sean. He only hoped that he wouldn’t find out. Although, with his weird ability to look into their memories, he was sure he already knew. Bowing his head, he lets himself drag along the thankfully smooth floor.

Finally, they come to a stop. They must have reached their destination. Or at least he thought so. He looks up to see a man dressed in ratty clothes blocking their path. An oversized stetson rests on his head, covering his eyes. He doesn’t recognize him, but, at the same time, there’s something unmistakably familiar about him. Almost like deja vu in a way.

“Who zee hell are you?” Henrik asks, his grip on Jackie’s arm tightening. The man doesn’t respond. Instead, he unstraps a shotgun from his back. Henrik takes a step back. “I asked you a question. Who are you?”

The man scoffs. “I wouldn’t expect you to know.” A thick Australian accent tinges his voice. It’s so familiar it pains Jackie that he can’t place how he knows it.

Out of nowhere, he cocks the gun and shoots at Henrik. He falls backward and lets go of his arm, fading quickly before his eyes. Chase hardly reacts, but with half of the security gone, Jackie’s easily able to shake him off. He looks between Jackie, the newcomer, and the small pool of blood where Henrik was, then races off.

The man helps Jackie to his feet. “Di-did you kill him?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I save your life and you’re worried if the guy trying to kill you is dead?” Jackie nods and he sighs. “No, he should be okay. Just his mind was in here. If it was his mind and his body, well, maybe then.”

“I-uh thank you. Who… who are you anyway?”

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to know who I am. Name’s Angus. But you probably know me as the Survival Hunter.”


	18. Chapter 18

Angus didn’t wait to see Jackie’s reaction. It was unlikely that he’d ever even heard of him, so he wasn’t expecting much. He turns around and motions for him to follow him. “Come on. They’ll be back soon. We’ll want to be long gone before then.” He leads Jackie down the striking white halls. It was strange. He’d been alone here for so long, and now here Jackie was. Was he supposed to say something to him to make him feel better? Was that something he should try? Maybe later.

“Why did you save me?” Jackie asks. Angus has half a mind to tell to shut up. Sound travels easily here, and if they were being hunted already, it would make them easier to find. But he holds his tongue. It wasn’t likely that Jack had entered the mindscape yet. He would let him talk for now.

“I watched as this happened once before. I wasn’t about to let it happen again,” he says. He’d watched as they dragged Sean through these halls, heard his cries for help, but at the time, he was too much of a coward to do anything. Not this time. Not again.

“Sean I guess?”

“Yeah. Thank you for freeing him as well, mate. I wasn’t sure how to go about it, seeing as I can never find the exit for this place.”

Jackie chuckles. “Me neither. He had to guide me.”

They fall silent, and Angus is immensely grateful. Spending years alone with nobody to talk to apparently does something to your social skills. Who would have thought?

A sharp pain splits through the side of his skull, causing Angus to wince. He feels the familiar crack reopening and stumbles as the fire spreads through his head. He steadies himself against the wall, pressing his hand against his forehead. Slowly, the hole begins to repair itself. He feels the bone growing back to cover most of the old wound. Hair and skin refused to grow there anymore, but at least it was covered by something.

Jackie comes up behind him and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Angus? Angus! Are you okay?” His hand was warmer than he remembered hands being. It had been too long since the last time he’d seen someone else, let alone touched someone. Still a bit dizzy from the reopening hole in his head, he unconsciously leans into the touch.

“I-I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “I’m fine. Just a headache, is all.” He flashes him a smile. Jackie doesn’t return it.

They keep walking through the seemingly endless halls. No matter how many times he walks the same path, it always feels like something is different. The machinery behind a door will sound different, or there’s a turn where he swears there wasn’t before. Thankfully, the markings he leaves behind to guide him always stay where he puts them.

_Hello? Is there anyone there?_

Angus stops in his tracks, tightening his grip on the shotgun he forgot he was holding. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

_Hello?_

He presses a hand to his temple. The voice rings around his skull, bouncing off the inside walls. “That.”

Jackie blinks. His eyes light up after a moment. “Is that? No, it can’t be. Why would he be here? How would he be here?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Jameson!” Jackie yells. “Jamie is that you?” His voice echoes through the empty halls.

_Who’s there? Who is that? I can’t tell just off your voice._

“It’s me, Jackie!”

“Pipe down!” Angus hisses. “Do you want all of the green-eyed-gang to find us from your yelling?”

Jackie ignores him. “I’m going to look for him.” He races down the hall as if the strange voice in his head could give any sort of direction.

Scowling, Angus takes off after him. At least they were still going in the same general direction. If they got off the path, he wasn’t sure he would be able to get them back. Then, Jackie takes a turn that leads him the wrong way. Angus clenches his fists and pushes himself to go faster. Finally, he slows, seeing his friend only a few feet away.

Jackie tackles Jameson into a crushing bear hug. They knock each other to the ground, laughing hysterically. Angus tightens his grip on his gun. He had no idea if Jameson was on their side or not. Shooting him wasn’t the most ideal option if it turned out that he wasn’t, but he’d shot one person today. What’s one more?

It was also strange that Jameson was in the mindscape of all places. He wasn’t sure how many of the egos could access it, but he definitely didn’t seem like the kind of person that knew how to. So, what was he doing here?  
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jackie breathes in between grateful laughs. He still hadn’t let go. It must have been a long time since they’d seen each other.

The two stand and the answer to Angus’ question is answered. Pink burns cover most of the left side of his face. The same goes for his neck and any bit of skin that he could see through his tattered clothing. Suddenly, he feels bad for assuming that Jameson could be on the other side. He wouldn’t be in the state he was in if he was.

“ _I honestly don’t know. The last thing I remember was stumbling through a burning building. The next thing I know, I’m here in a lot of pain_.” Jameson’s mouth twists into a frown.

Jackie notices the burns covering most of his body and blanches. He reaches a hesitant hand towards the large scar on his face and gently brushes his fingers against it. Jameson recoils with a painful hiss.

Angus takes a step towards them. “It’s nice to meet you, Jameson Jackson.”

Jameson holds his hands up, stepping back warily. “ _Who are you? How do you know my name? I’ve never seen you around before._ ”

“Name’s Angus. And when you’ve lived in this place for long enough, you start to learn things. I saved your friend’s hide from some of those green-eyed idiots earlier.” Jameson gives him an incredulous look.”

“He’s telling the truth, Jamie,” Jackie says. “He knows his way around this place.”

Slowly, he nods and reaches a hand towards Angus. He just looks at it strangely. Was he trying to give him something? Was he supposed to give him something? “What’s this for?”

“ _It’s a handshake. You do know what a handshake is, right?_ ”

“Of course I know what a handshake is.” Angus chuckles and shakes his hand forcefully.

An indistinguishable emotion clouds Jameson’s eyes, but he shrugs. “ _Lead the way then?_ ”

Angus grits his teeth against the intrusion in his head. “Can you not project your voice right into my head? It’s giving me a damn headache.”

“ _Can you understand sign language?_ ”

“No. I never learned it.”

“ _Then I have literally no other way to communicate with either of you._ ”

“Fine.” He grumbles. “Follow me.”

It doesn’t take them too much longer to get where he wants to go, even with the extra detour. They finally come across a translucent, yellow wall blocking their path. In the center of that barricade floats a small circular object carved with a deer head. A coin. The hole through the center brings back memories that he'd rather forget, but he pushes them down. There wasn't any time to wallow in the past. Angus wraps his hand around the coin and closes his eyes. Energy seeps from his fingertips into the wall, shattering it to pieces. The shards suspend in the air, hanging from invisible threads.

Angus waves them through, knowing that there isn’t much time before it closes, but Jameson hangs back. “Jameson,” he hisses. “Come on.”

He just stares blankly ahead. “ _I’m dead, aren’t I?_ ”

“What?” Jackie says incredulously. “Of course-”

“I’m going to stop you there, Jackie,” Angus cuts him off. “You are. I’m sorry. My guess is that the smoke killed you.”

“ _That’s… that’s right. I remember now._ ” Jameson casts his gaze downward. “ _I thought that when I died I would at least get to see my family again._ ”

“I’m sorry, Jameson. I don’t know what else to say."

“ _Why are we listening to you? We’ve never even met you and you’re tugging us around like a puppy on a leash. Where are you taking us, Angus?_ ”

“Who else do you have that knows their way around here? Now, come on. We don’t have time for this.”

“ _No, we most definitely do have time for this,”_ He retorts, moving to stand toe-to-toe with him. At least he was past the wall now. “My _life has been flipped upside-down and sideways more times in the past few days than it has been in my entire life. I’ve lost, regained, and made friends; I’ve seen people who, if you were in your own time, would be dead now. I found someone who I thought I’d lost, just to lose him again. I lost my own life. I lost everything.”_

“SO DID I!”

The resulting silence is deafening. A pin could drop three hallways away and you’d be able to hear it. He repeats it softer, more to himself than anything.

“ _I didn’t-_ ”

“Of course you didn’t. Why would you? You didn’t even know I ever existed.” He takes his hat off, revealing the bone white bald spot on his skull. “He told me it wouldn’t kill me, that it was just a test to see how much damage it would do.” He laughs bitterly. “You can see how stupid I was then.”

“How long ago was this?” Jackie’s voice shakes.

“What year is it?”

“2019.”

He thinks for a moment. “Five years, then”

“Five?” Jackie cries. “Jesus…”

“ _That still doesn’t make me trust you fully, but…_ ” Jameson sighs. “ _I’ll give you a chance._ ”

“Thank you."


	19. Chapter 19

Jack had never been more angry in his life. 

Maybe that was an overstatement, but he was pretty pissed. When Henrik suddenly popped into existence with a healing hole in his head, spewing something about how someone he’d never seen before had broken Jackie free, he wasn’t sure what to think. Everyone was accounted for. Anti and Marvin were still in the past. Chase and Henrik had been accompaing Jackie. Jameson was dead. Sean was still with Robin. So, who the hell was this new person?

He’d dragged Henrik back into the mindscape immediately after. They speed-walked through the maze, towards where Jackie had reportedly gotten free. Chase rounds a corner just ahead of them and visibly breathes a sigh of relief as he sees Henrik. 

“Thank God you’re alright, Hen.” He says, too much emotion filling his voice. The more emotion he showed, the looser his strings were, and, right now, he didn’t want to take any chances. Jack easily takes care of the problem. Chase goes rigid, his eyes blank. He stands next to Jack- opposite of Henrik- and they’re off again. 

They make it to the spot, marked with a slowly dissolving pool of blood. Henrik pales upon seeing the pool, but doesn’t say anything. “Which way did they go, Chase?” Jack asks.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see them.”

“Did you at least try to stop zis mystery man?” 

“He had a gun, and I didn’t want him to kill me too.”

Jack lets out an exasperated sigh. Chase really was useless. He looks around and closes his eyes, sensing for life anywhere else. He can feel Henrik and Chase next to him, but far off there are more people. Three to be exact. Jack bites his tongue. Most likely, one of them was Jackie and another the man who had freed him, but the final person was another mystery. Was there someone else here that he didn’t know existed?

With a wave of his hand, the walls shift, warping and bending as they create a shortcut to where the group is. In front of them now stands a glowing barrier that blocks their path. Jack carelessly destroys it with another wave, and marches on. 

Suddenly, something wizzes past his right ear. A stinging pain explodes with it. He whips around, juts a hand out in front of him, and pins the attacker to the ground. The mystery man falls to his knees, bound with invisible chains. Jack freezes in shock.

He knows him. He knows him. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be able to be here. How was he here? How? He died. Jack had shot him and he had died. 

“Long time, no see. Eh, Jack?” The Australian accent burns his ears. A pit of guilt rises in his stomach, but it’s quickly replaced by anger.

“How are you here?” Jack grits through his teeth and pushes Angus harder into the floor. “How are you alive? I shot you. You should be dead.”

Even against the immense pressure Jack was putting on him, he laughs. “I am dead.”

“Then how are you here?”

Before he can answer, someone tackles Jack from behind, causing him to release his grip on Angus. He lets out a cry of anger as they topple down. The attacker pins his hands behind his back. “Happy to see me?” Jackie crows smugly.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer either before Jackie is blown off of him. Literally. A strong gust of wind knocks him off of Jack’s back. He scrambles to his feet, confused but satisfied. At least until he sees who ‘saved’ him. Striking green hair tied back in a tight man-bun gives him away. Of course he would end up here. 

A brilliant idea crosses his mind, and he smothers a grin. They had made a fatal mistake- being here all at the same time- and he was going to make sure they knew it.

Jackie and Marvin stand shoulder-to-shoulder, a familiar stance they used when Marvin used to help Jackie with his heroic duties on especially busy nights. They smile and exchange a few quickwords with each other. 

Angus joins the Jameson on the opposite side, containing Jack, Henrik, and Chase to the section of the hall. Jack almost vomits upon seeing Jameson. Henrik was right, he did die in the fire. If the smoke didn’t kill him, the fire most certainly did. Hopefully it was a slow, painful death. That’s what he deserved.

Henrik glances nervously at Jack. “Zey outnumber us. Badly. I’m hoping you have some sort of plan.” 

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” He turns to face Angus. Somehow he was able to manipulate the mindscape just as Jack was. In order for this plan to work, he needed him incapacitated at least for a moment. He hears Marvin muttering the words to a spell under his breath and an idea sparks. At the last moment, reflects the curse directed at Henrik to Angus.

Angus hissed as he falls to a knee as the hex hits him in the stomach. Another spell, one that Jack doesn’t anticipate, hits him square in the back. Jack feels the skin burn and bubble, peeling away from the muscle underneath. He bites back a cry of pain and quickly presses a hand to his back to soothe it. 

Chase cries out in surprise, holding a knife just inches from his face. Anti stands behind Jackie and Marvin, already flipping another blade in his hand. Anti rushes Henrik, but before he can reach him, Chase flicks his wrist and creates a wall that he slams face first into. Jack almost laughs at the sheer hilarity of the situation, but he stops himself at the realization that Chase had just manipulated the mindscape with more ease than he could himself. Chase. Maybe he wasn’t so useless after all.

Before he knows it, Jackie and Jameson are attacking him with everything they can, while Angus assists them with small manipulations here and there. So the hex plan didn’t work as he wanted it to. Amazing. Purposefully, Jack lets them knock him down. Let them think he’s weak. Let them think they’ll win. Let them see who’s really in control. 

Angus pins him to the floor much like he’d done to him earlier. Jack puts on a good show of struggling against the invisible bonds. They couldn’t hold him. Not for long at least.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Marvin and Anti wailing on Chase and Henrik with everything they have. It was a disappointment to see that a fake magician and someone who can’t control their hold on reality were beating his two, overly capable allies.

It was time to end this. Once and for all.

“ENOUGH!” Jack dramatically shoots his arms out sideways as he breaks free of the bonds holding him to the ground. Around him, his enemies go flying. They slam into the walls, the crack of breaking ribs music to his ears. Angus, Jameson, and Anti land to his left, while Jackie and Marvin end up on his right. Henrik cowers close to the ground, hands behind his head as a means of protection. Chase helps him stand.

Jack laughs, and a chorus of angry grunts and yells answer him. It’s a cacophony of unintelligible noise, but for the very best reason. They were stuck to the walls, chained with a thick black material. Nothing would free them. Once again, they were his, and he wanted them to know it.

“It’s ridiculous.” He chuckles. “You all come on the same day, at the same time, just when I happen to be here as well. Foolish, really. Did you think you could outnumber me here? I’m in control, for now and for always.”

“Over my dead body,” Angus snarls. His face loses a bit of its edge as he realizes the irony of his statement. 

Jack smiles pitifully at him. “You really tried, didn’t you?”

He flushes, but doesn’t look away. “You’re disgusting. I’ve seen naked mole rats with more charm than you. Do you really think you’ll-”

The black material slithers up his body to squeeze around his neck, cutting his rant off with a gasp. “Would you like to see if you can die again, Angus? Or is one time enough for you?”

Angus doesn’t flinch, but shakes his head slightly. Fear shines in his eyes. Shouts from the other egos fall deaf on Jack’s ears as he tightens the material around his throat. His face begins to turn blue as he goes almost a minute without air. At the very last second, he releases it and Angus coughs violently as he struggles for air. 

“Vhat now?” Henrik asks, approaching him.

“Now? Now we wait,” Jack answers. He sits on the ground, motioning for Henrik to follow. 

Henrik sits next to him. “For vhat?”

“The only person who has the ability to stop me, but is too afraid- too weak- to do so.” Jack stares off into the distance as a far off figure stumbles towards them. “I want him to watch as I finally take back what is rightfully mine.”

“And who is zat?”

Jack pauses, watching the man as he clumsily races down the hall. “My old friend, Sean William McLoughlin.”


	20. Chapter 20

Sean tore through the halls as fast as his feeble legs could carry him. He could see them up ahead, the crowd of figures gathered at the horizon. They all blended together creating one big blob of color contrasting with the stark white of the halls. He needed to get there as fast as he could. He had to stop Jack before he did something horrible.

This hallway seemed like the longest thing he’d ever traversed. He could have sworn it was never this long before, or maybe that was another hall. His thoughts were jumbled, impossible to decipher over the screaming of the others.  _ Focus,  _ he orders himself.  _ Focus. You have a job to do. _

Silently, he urges his legs to go faster. He should have stopped Jackie from trying to save Chase. He shouldn’t have let him go. Why didn’t he stop him? Why, God dammit, _ didn’t he stop him _ ? He knew Jack had no chance of success. He knew that, and he still let him walk right into the trap laying in wait. 

It was things like this that made him want to reverse time, or even be able to control people like Jack could. Robin had innocently asked him if he could control people like Jack could. “No,” he’d said. “I never have, and I never will.” He wished to take the latter part out now. If Jack could keep everyone, even Sean, wrapped around his pinky finger, then there must be some way to control him as well. If only there was time to figure that out. 

He was finally beginning to make out specific figures of the people waiting for him. They’re incredibly still, almost inhumanly so. Two others sit on the floor in front of them, watching as he teetered down the hall. Suddenly, the corridor shrinks, sending Sean stumbling forward. He pushes himself up, only to be slammed back down by an sudden increase in gravity. He doesn’t try to get up again.

“Look who finally decided to show up?” Jack’s voice is a nightmare to hear. It didn’t matter that they all had the same physical features, he could look in a mirror or listen to Jackie talk no problem. But Jack… there was something about him that was different. Something in the way he spoke sends a shiver down his spine.

Gathering as much strength as he can, he looks up to meet his eyes. “Let them go, Jack.” He can hear his voice shake, and Jack’s face shows his delight. 

Jack laughs. “You’re weak, Sean. You always have been the weaker one.”

Surprisingly, Jack lets him up. Sean pushes himself to his shaky legs, looking around. He sees Marvin first. He’s not sure if the magician even notices he’s there. His eyes are far away and he doesn’t even blink when Sean coughs violently. 

“Sean…?” He almost doesn’t hear the voice at first. He’s not sure if he  _ wants  _ to hear it a second time. Because he knows the voice, and this was the cruelest joke Jack had ever played. 

He turns around to face the voice and sees exactly what he expects. A younger version of himself hangs from the wall. He wants to dispute his existence, but he  _ can’t _ . Not with Jameson next to him either. Both of them had died horrible deaths, and yet here they were alongside everyone else. 

“‘Gus?” Sean’s voice is no more than a whisper, if it even is audible at all. He forces himself to tear away from his old friend. There would be time to catch up later. Right now, he had to find a way to get Jack out of the way so he could save everyone else.

“Let them go,” he orders. His voice was stronger than before, but not without the wobble that he despised.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Jack shakes his head. 

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Marvin hisses from behind them. Jack doesn’t so much as glance at him as a green thread appears above Marvin’s head. He struggles against the unnatural fabric binding him and the others to the wall.

“Don’t do this, Jack,” Sean pleads, not caring how pathetic he sounded.

Jack smiles at him, a wide, unearthly grin. “Too late.”

Marvin cries out as the string wraps around his throat. More threads branch off of it, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. It splits again, moving onto Jackie and Anti. They writhe as they struggle to free themselves, but it’s no use. The thread doesn’t so much move.

“ _ You bastard! Let them go!”  _ Jameson’s yell uncomfortably fills Sean’s head for the first time. “ _ You son of a bitch!”  _ It grates against the inside of his skull; almost as if someone was dragging a shovel along his brain. That must take some getting used to.

They go ridged and the black material falls from around them, letting them drop to their feet. The newly formed puppets march to their master, standing stiffly behind him. Jack turns to look at Jameson, who pales at the attention. “Would you like to join them?”

“ _ Screw you.”  _

“You don’t have a choice anyway.” More string appears above Angus and Jameson. Having learned from the others, they don’t even try to struggle. 

Sean reaches out, trying to grasp at any energy that he could to save them, but nothing happened. He scolds himself for being so weak. He tries again, but to no avail. Burning tears form in the corners of his eyes. He promised he would save them. He promised that they wouldn’t be subjected to this fate again.

Then, a miracle happens. The strings meant to control Angus and Jameson pass right through them. They try to wrap around again, but find nothing tangible to hold onto. Jack scowls, trying his best to find a single part of their bodies to wrap the thread around. He finds nothing. Sean cheers internally, before realizing what this meant for them. 

Jack would lock them away just as he’d shut Sean away.

Panic wells in his chest. He had to get them out of there, now more than ever. He would  _ not _ let anyone else be put through that torture of an existence. He would not let that happen to them. He wouldn’t. But he doesn’t have a choice. Jack was stronger than him in every way. He knew all of his weaknesses, all of his strengths.

“What happened to you, Jack?” Sean shakes his head at him. Once, he’d considered Jack a friend, a brother even. He didn’t know the man standing in front of him. Not anymore. He wasn’t the boy he’d grown up with; this wasn’t the boy he’d known. “What did you do to yourself?”

Jack turns away from his failed venture to control Angus and Jameson. “I never did anything. I just learned what I am. Who I’m supposed to be. We could have shared this, but you stood in my way. Believe me when I say I didn’t want to hurt you, but… you left me no choice.” Behind his eyes, just for a moment, he can see the sincerity of a boy that no longer existed, and he’s reminded of everything they once shared. 

_ “Woah…” Sean gently kneels in front of the ring of mushrooms, in awe of what he was seeing before him. A boy his age lounges in the middle of the fairy ring. He smiles up at Sean, with just as much wonder in his eyes. The boy in front of him looked  _ exactly _ like him. From the freckles on his nose, to the hairs on his arms. “Why do you look like me?” _

_ Jack shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t really know much.” His stomach growls and he looks shocked. “What is that?” _

_ “You’re hungry.” Sean jumps to his feet. He reaches into the fairy ring to help Jack up. “Come on. My mom’s a great cook, and it’s almost supper time. I’m sure she’ll let you eat with us- Oh, My name’s Sean, by the way.” _

_ “I’m Jack.” _

_ “Well, Jack, I think that we’re going to be great friends.” _

The memory hurt more than he cared to admit. They once were close as brothers, and now look at them twenty years later. What happened? What changed? Or was this evil lurking inside Jack from the very beginning? Looking upon everyone now, he wondered what could have been. They could have been happy together.

Maybe he could do something about that. 

There was no way he could free everyone from Jack’s control all at once, but slipping one or two people under the radar- that was entirely possible. Choosing who was the only problem. 

Angus and Jameson would be too obvious as Jack was still trying to figure out how to get them under his control. As much as he loved Jackie, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Marvin would be strong enough to take them out, but his spells were verbal and they would hear it coming. Anti wouldn’t even try to hide it. That left him with one option, and he was not disappointed with it.

During his imprisonment, he had tested his abilities by creating someone fueled by his loneliness. Thus, Chase Brody was born out of a selfish act to try and free himself of some of the dark thoughts filling his head. It hadn’t worked. To compensate for the mistake he couldn’t erase, he breathed a bit of his powers into him, hoping that someday he could use them. Today was that day.

He had never tried this before, but cutting him free would be too obvious. For everyone’s sake, it would have to work. Closing his eyes, Sean finds the invisible strings tying Chase to Jack. Wrapping his mind around that string, he sends his own energy into it. The string vibrates, rejecting him, but he pushes harder and finally it submits. He repeats this for each of the threads, keeping a careful eye on Jack to make sure he didn’t notice. Jack was blissfully ignorant as he mocks Angus and Jameson. Before long, he’d finished. Chase was now under his control. His shaky, but sure, control

Everything after that passes in a blur. Chase sends Jack skyrocketing into the ceiling, and a dark light bursts from Jack’s torso. Sean’s body explodes in pain. His insides felt as if they were boiling, flipping this way and that to escape an unidentifiable horror. His limbs stretched out, inches away from tearing away from his body. All of the air leaves his lungs, leaving him gasping through screams of pain. Honestly, he should have expected this. He was quite literally erasing Jack from existence. Why wouldn’t that hurt him?

He feels his grip on Chase slipping, and through the pain, it’s hard to regain his grasp. He pushes Chase harder. He wanted Jack gone. He  _ needed  _ him gone. And if that meant destroying himself with him, then so be it. 

Then, it’s over. 

Chase crumples to the ground, exhausted. Everyone else, freed from their strings, looks around warily. Sean leans against the wall, regaining his breath. Dust floats down from the ceiling where Jack was. He was gone. A pang runs through Sean’s heart. Even after everything, he still saw Jack as the little homeless boy he’d found in the fairy ring so many years before. In his eyes, Jack was his little brother, and he needed to protect him. And he’d just destroyed him from the inside out.

Henrik was nowhere to be found either. Either he had ran while everyone was distracted by Chase and Jack, or he’d disappeared with his creator. 

“H-how the hell did you do that?” Marvin carefully approaches Chase to help him up.

Clutching his head, Chase accepts Marvin’s hand. “I… I’m not e-entirely sure. I don’t think that I actually did that.”

“You’re right, Chase.” Sean pulls himself up and walks to them. “I used you as somewhat of a vessel against him. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get rid of him.”

“ Yo̴u t҉or̨e h̶i͝m ̢apa̴rt ͠f̢or C̨h̕ri҉s͢t's sa͜k͝e,” Anti exclaims. 

“I know. I know. I felt every moment of it.”

They fall quiet, not sure whether to celebrate or mourn Jack’s death. They had all considered him a friend at one point- everyone except Anti, that was. This wasn’t the end they had pictured, but maybe it was the one they deserved. Chase, the nobody, overlooked by everyone, had been the only one strong enough to defeat Jack. Even if Sean was pulling the strings.

The walk to the exit is filled with stories of their adventures apart from each other. Jackie told of freeing Sean and the escape that sounded rather stupid when put into words. Anti, Marvin, and Jameson tell about how they traveled to the past. 

“I kept meaning to ask, where did you get that pocket watch from anyway, Jamie?” Marvin inquires.

“ _ I bought it from a shop owned by a fellow named Wingelheimer,”  _ Jameson explains. “ _ Nice man.” _

“Hmm,” Marvin hums. “That name sounds familiar.” A few of the others nod in agreement.

Reaching the exit was emotional as Jameson realized he couldn’t return with them. They said their tearful goodbyes and promises to visit were made. As Sean stepped into a home he had never known, he finally feels at peace. 

It was over. It was finally over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the end of the story. I did have another chapter planned, but I think I’m going to publish that as a oneshot some time after Christmas. I’m going to thank people individually in an acknowledgements chapter after this one, but I just want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for reading this. Your support means everything to me. Thank you all so much.


	21. Acknowledgements

First of all, I want to thank all of you that left kudos, a comment, or bookmarked any story in this series. Seeing that people were actually enjoying my writing and not just clicking away after they read the first sentence means a lot to me.

I want to thank BiZaRePistashio for their wonderful comments. They have left their theories and questions on most if not all of the chapters of this story. Seeing those really brightened my day and actually inspired me to change most of the ending to something I am much prouder.

I also want to thank StarlightXNightmare and the entire team of people that have written the Royal Flush series for being such a positive force here on Ao3. They more or less inspired me to start writing this series in the first place.

Finally, I want to thank everyone who read this from the very beginning of Glitch to the very end of this one. Your support means everything to me. I love writing and Ao3 has such an amazing platform to publish my work. As of right now, Glitch has received 997 hits. That is an absolutely insane number and it would have never gotten there without you guys. So thank you again for everything. 

See you soon.


End file.
